


The Rogue Versus Everyone Else

by Geoffreyofmonmouth



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Battle of the Bands, First Time, Fluff, I dunno is sixteen underage in some jurisdictions? consider yourself warned, Louis doesn't have a bowl haircut, M/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geoffreyofmonmouth/pseuds/Geoffreyofmonmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is excited.  It's the final of the Schools' Battle of the Bands competition and his band The Rogue are in it.  Who is this mysterious boy with the green eyes and curls that keeps distracting him?  And what kind of stupid name is White Eskimo, anyway?</p><p>Thanks to gloubear's tumblr for the prompt, and for the names of the members of White Eskimo.  Gloubear's tumblr rules!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rogue Versus Everyone Else

**Author's Note:**

> The Rogue's lineup is the one they had when they were fourteen-fifteen. I don't know if there were any changes after that. Also, I don't have my guitar with me (temporary accomodation and all that), so don't blame me if the chords I mentioned are horribly clashing. And please excuse my lyric writing.

"We're on our way!" sang Louis. He bounced up and down in the passenger seat.

Stan, in the driver's seat, glanced at him. "Settle down, mate. If you're this excited already-"

"But Stan, this is it! This is our big break! There'll be famous people there, judging us. There'll be record label scouts. There'll be masses of people watching us."

"We're playing four songs," said Stan, but he sounded a little excited as well.

"Four of the best that audience will ever hear. Did your Dad get his shift off work?" Louis asked, suddenly anxious.

"Yeah, he's all sorted. He's gone in to work early, and will leave around two. Gets his eight hours in."

"Cool. Why is he working on a Saturday, anyway?"

"Some big merger thingy. I dunno. He's been stressed all week."

"I've been stressed all week," said Jona from the back seat. "This is a lot of pressure, you guys."

"You must be over it by now," said Louis, looking at him. Beside him sat Geoff, their lead guitarist. "We've won our heats-"

"Technically," said Jona, "we were runners up in our last heat." 

"But the idiots that won it split up," laughed Geoff.

"I don't care about technicalities, Jona," said Louis sternly. "We got through, that's all that matters. We've got a real chance here. We'll take no prisoners. We'll barnstorm the place."

"It's an outdoor event," Stan pointed out. "You can't barnstorm it."

"There won't be any prisoners to take there either, will there? It's metaphorical, Stanley."

Stan had nothing to say to that, so Louis sat back in his seat. He may have bounced a couple more times. Really, it was so exciting. The Healthways School Battle of the Bands, Manchester, and they were in it. They'd won their heats (they should have won the one where they were runners up, but for the fact that the judges took a disliking to Louis when Stan swung him into their table, spilling several champagne glasses) and were well on the path to winning the whole competition. The prizes were great: the chance to record an EP and get their songs on radio stations across the UK. They were guaranteed airtime. All this, for a schoolkids competition. It was amazing. And, like he'd said, on the off chance they didn't win, there'd be record company scouts at the event, seeking to find a diamond in the rough that they could polish with their money. Louis knew they were good enough. They'd been together for years, since he was fourteen. He'd turned eighteen six months ago, and was now in his final year at school, about to do A levels. They'd built a strong repertoire of songs over the years.

Their boot was full of guitars. Various amps and Joe's drumkit were spread out amongst friends and family who were driving up. Mum and Dad (well, stepdad) were coming, along with Lottie and Fizz. It was an all-ages event that started in the late afternoon and ran up to ten o'clock that night. 

"Can't believe we get to play on an outdoor stage," said Stan. "Hope the weather holds. Rain will affect the crowd."

"It's forcast to be sunny. Be optimistsic," said Louis. He squirmed around on the seat to look at Jona again. "Do you have any snacks?"

"It's only going to take us an hour twenty to get there," Jona pointed out.

"But I'm hungry."

"You're not hungry, you're just nervous."

"I'm not nervous. Huh," said Louis, twisting around to the front again.

"Will you sit still?" said Stan. "You're distracting me."

Louis lunged and kissed him on the cheek.

"Shit!" said Stan, as the steering wheel wobbled. "I hate you, Tommo."

"You love me," said Louis, smugly, and began to fiddle with the collection of CDs they'd brought instead. He flipped out the current CD, and put in the Killers. "That's better," he said.

"Just because you can't appreciate Jimi Hendrix," said Geoff.

"But Hendrix isn't car music."

"And this is?"

"You and your old-fashioned tastes."

"Jimi Hendrix isn't old-fashioned. He's timeless."

"It's because he died young," said Louis.

"No it's not," argued Geoff.

"If you die young, your music's guaranteed a place in the music hall of fame. The whole of music history has been shaped by those who died young. And John Lennon counts at forty. That's less than half a lifetime these days."

"Your philosophies are weird," said Geoff.

"You'll have to plan on dying young then, Louis," said Stan.

Louis hummed. He didn't want to die young. But he didn't want to grow old, either. What choice was there? To enjoy the moment. Be in the moment as much as possible. Stop straining ahead, thinking about what will happen when they get to Manchester, and enjoy this car journey with three of his best mates.

He was still hungry, though.

"How much longer?" he asked Stan.

"Cool your heels, child. There's just under an hour to go."

"Who wants to spot cars with me?"

"Boring," said Jona. Geoff agreed.

Louis sulked. Only briefly. He remembered where they were headed to, again, and couldn't help but bounce. 

"Oh my god, I can't take you anywhere," said Stan. "You're like a kid in a toyshop."

"This is serious stuff, Stan," said Louis.

"Oh, I'm serious. I'm more serious about this than about anything else in my entire life. I'm worried about you."

"Me?"

"That you'll get so hyper you'll forget how important this is and stuff it up somehow."

"I would never."

"I'm keeping an eye on you, just the same," said Stan.

There was just under an hour to go. Louis tried to settle.

***

As predicted, they were in Manchester in under an hour. But their truimph was quickly deflated by their unfamiliarity with Manchester.

"Louis, I'm sure I've already been up this road, in the other direction," said Stan, glancing over to Louis, who was the navigator.

Louis opened the map out further. "I know what I'm doing," he said, stubbornly.

"Give it to Jona." 

"Yeah, give it to me," said Jona.

"I can do this," said Louis. "At the next set of traffic lights, turn left."

"Where's the sun?" said Geoff. "Maybe we'd be better off navigating by the sun."

Stan looked at where the sun was. "We're going south! Louis!"

"How can you tell? The sun is almost directly overhead," huffed Louis.

"Give it to Jona," ordered Stan, and grudgingly, Louis handed the map over. Jona told him to pull a U-turn at the nearest place and go back up the road. Louis sulked again. He remembered he had the official directions in his backpack, so pulled them out. Perhaps they should have come off the highway a little later, he reflected. It involved a slight double-back, but was much smoother. He simply thought he'd try to save Stan the petrol by bringing them off further away.

Jona proved to be more able than Louis at giving directions, and fifteen minutes later they were pulling into the venue. It was a large grassed area, bigger than a football pitch. A stage had been set up down one end, while at the other, cars were parked. There wasn't that many people milling about, but the show didn't start for another three hours so Louis wasn't surprised. 

Fortunately the area was well-signposted. They drove up a laneway towards the back of the stage. There was a large covered area. A dozen or so people were sitting around on amplifiers in small groups inside the covered area.

An attendant with a pass around his neck came over to them. "We're The Rogue," Stan told him, flicking his sunglasses up.

"We have a section for you. I'll take you to it." The attendant motioned them out of the car, and showed them to their place inside the covered area. "This is yours. See? It has your name above it. Don't venture into the others' spaces. Water's available at the back of the stage. You'll have to buy your own food. Now, hurry up and unpack your stuff. You won't be the only ones wanting to unpack. Everyone has to check in by 2:00pm. As you're one of the bands, you can put your car up that way," he pointed to an area further up where cars were parked. "Here, I'll give you your passes." He pulled a bunch of wrist-tags from his pocket and handed one to each of them. "Wear them at all times."

"Thank you." Louis wrapped the tag around his wrist and watched the attendant go off. "What's the time now?" Louis asked Stan. 

"Just after midday."

"So we're well good and early, then." 

"Yeah. Lets get the guitars out of the car, and I'll go park in the parking area."

They all went back to the car and hauled the guitars out of the boot. Stan drove off, then, up to the area the attendant had indicated.

"We're going to need to call everyone who has stuff with them, get them to come past here first before they park," said Louis to the others. "I'll ring Joe." 

They all called up people who they knew were carrying the gear. Louis called Joe, and got him.

"You're on your phone whilst driving?" Louis said.

"Shut up, Lou, I thought it might be important."

"I have two pieces of advice for you. Number one, follow the route the organisers gave us. Number two, drive up the section where it says, 'Bands only'. That's where you'll drop your gear off. You can probably even park, if you're lucky."

"Right," said Joe. "Talk to you later."

Louis ended the call, and turned back to his other bandmates. Stan was just striding into the area. Louis decided to have a look about. On either side of them were the band names 'Amused' and 'White Eskimo'. White Eskimo? What kind of a stupid name was that? He wandered off to where sections already had bands. 

Under 'The Dead Flowers' were a bunch of girls with rips in their stockings. Louis, who liked to think he was charming, chatted them up for a while. They were well fit, and fun, although none of them particularly sparked his interest. He moved on to 'Rut', a group of metal-heads. They didn't have much in common, but Louis talked for a while, anyway. He got on well with people, it was natural for him. Besides, he was so hyped up, he needed to divert his attention. Finally, he stepped up to 'The Jack Lee Band'. Jack Lee was a blonde-haired, good-looking boy, who seemed to take an instant dislike to Louis. His band members seemed to be nervous talking to Louis, noting the reaction of their leader.

"What's wrong with you?" Louis said to Jack.

"You can stop trying to find out our secrets, I know what you're all about," said Jack.

"Huh?"

"I've seen you, going around to every band, trying to suss out the competition. Well, we're giving you nothing. So fuck off."

"Do you want to be our enemy band?" Louis asked interestedly.

"We're not friends."

"Okay. I'm Louis, from the Rogue, in case you're interested."

"I'll remember you, Louis from the Rogue," spat Jack.

Well, thought Louis, as he turned away. That was interesting.

A couple more bands had turned up in the interim. Louis headed back to his own band and sat down cross-legged in front of them. 

"Why didn't we pack the amps?" complained Jona. "At least we'd have somewhere to sit."

"Sit on your bass case," said Louis.

"I'd never!" said Jona, scandalised. "It's obvious you don't play an instrument."

"The voice is an instrument," said Louis.

"The voice is an instrument, more delicate than any," said someone.

Louis turned and looked up. The first thing he was aware of was, black. The boy was all dressed in black. But he didn't have goth make-up or anything. No, he had milky skin, cherry-red lips, and dark chocolate curls falling over his face and ears. 

"You're right," Louis agreed. "A voice is prone to shake, hit the wrong notes. A guitar, by itself, doesn't do that."

"Get off. It's operator error, just the same," argued Stan. "You singers hit a wrong note, you haven't used your voice-box properly. Just the same as if I hit a bad note, I haven't used my guitar properly."

"My voice responds to changes in the weather," said the boy all in black with the chocolate curls. "Does your guitar?"

"I... well, no," Stan admitted. 

"Then my point stands," said the boy, and walked away. 

Where did he come from? Louis wondered. Where did this interesting, unusual (hot) stranger come from? He was wearing leather boots, Louis noted, looking down at his Toms. Suave and sophisticated.

He soon found out who the boy was. He came back, hauling an amp. He was part of White Eskimo, the band with the terrible name. The singer, even, judging by his words. Louis was about to go over to him and say something, when his phone rang. His mum was there, with an amp in the back of her car. Louis raced over to the driveway. 

"Thanks so much for bringing this, Mum," he said. It was Stan's amp. With his dad's help, he hauled it out of the boot of the car. "Park up that-away," he said, pointing to where Stan had parked his car. "You're allowed, you're part of the band."

"Are you sure we should?" Fizz and Lottie were in the back seat. They waved excitedly at him.

"Of course. There's plenty of room."

"Now what time are you on again, dear?"

"Not until later tonight. Probably around 8:00pm. I dunno. Read the program."

"Well, we might drive into Manchester to get something to eat," said his mum. "I'm sure the food they serve here isn't healthy." 

"It's sponsored by Healthways, it ought to be," said Louis. 

"No, darling. We'll be definitely back for your concert, though." 

"It's only four songs, Mum. The same four songs you've heard over and over again."

"We'll be so proud," she said, and hugged his smiling stepdad around the waist. 

"Okay, off you go, then," said Louis, kissing his mum, shaking his dad's hand.

Lottie wound down the window. "Hi Louis! Good luck!"

"Make sure you're there to see me," he told her, and Fizz, who was leaning over. "You're my good-luck charms." He kissed them both--Fizz positively launched herself at him from the opposite seat--and waved goodbye. Dad swung the car around and headed back out into greater Manchester for something to eat.

Louis was hungry, himself. He left the amp on the side of the layby for the moment and went to fetch Stan to help him bring it back.

"Finally, an amp!" said Jona, as they brought it into their band area.

"It's Stan's amp," Louis told him, sitting on it, Stan sitting next to him. "You'll have to wait until your family gets here."

"They're going to be late. They said, not until six."

"Then you'll just have to grovel on the ground, like the commoner you are."

"Wanker." 

"Not necessary. I have more charm than you."

The other boys could do nothing but laugh. 

Joe arrived then, with his car full of drum-cases, and they went to help him unpack. Finally, they had something to sit on, even if Joe wasn't happy about people sitting on his drum-cases.

"I'm starving," announced Louis. "Let's go get something to eat." 

"Will the food vendors be open yet?" wondered Stan. "It's not time for the concert to start yet."

"They'll simply have to be," said Louis dramatically. He swung his head, and caught the eye of the White Eskimo singer, he of the beautiful green eyes. He stared for a moment, before abruptly looking away. "Let's go," he said.

***

There were plenty of food vendors around, and rides. 

"Can we go on the rides?" asked Louis of Stan.

"If you want to throw up everything you've eaten, sure."

"I'm yet to find something I want to eat," said Louis. "If Healthways is sponsoring it, you think we could get something other than burgers and chips. I want a chicken and salad sandwich."

"We'll keep looking," said Stan.

They circled back around. They came upon the boy from White Eskimo. He was eating a sandwich. Before Louis could even wonder how he'd gotten ahead of them--obvious answer, he'd walked around the park in a different direction--he pounced upon him.

"Where did you get that sandwich?"

"Oh, um, in a stall back that way," said the boy, pointing behind him.

"You are my saviour," Louis told him. "What's your name?"

"Harry." And Harry profferred a hand. "Harry Styles." 

"Loius. Louis Tomlinson," said Louis, shaking his hand. "Although we are rivals, you have proven yourself to be a decent human being."

"Well, thanks," said Harry, grinning. He had a beautiful mouth, wide and toothy and with extra succulent lips. Louis swallowed.

He and Stan moved on, and found the sandwich booth. 

"Chicken and salad," sighed Louis, and was delivered up of his preference. Stan ordered beef and salad and was duly given his order. 

"This is so nice," sighed Louis. "I've been so hungry since we came up."

"Didn't you eat lunch?"

"It was too early," said Louis. "I wasn't hungry. I wasn't hungry until we got in the car."

"So this is the first thing you've eaten for what, six, seven hours?"

"Yeah." 

"Numbskull."

"But it tastes the more delicious for it," said Louis. "It was worth it."

"This isn't a bad beef sandwich," admitted Stan. "What's up between you and that White Eskimo kid?"

"Nothing," said Louis. "He knows what's what, that's all."

Stan snorted, but said nothing more. 

***

By the time they had almost arrived back at the covered area, it was time for the first band to start. "Thank god we're not on until eight or so," said Louis. "I'd hate to be on this early. There's not that much of a crowd." 

"There's more than any gig of ours has gotten so far, save the Battle of the Bands," said Stan.

"That's because we have under-eighteens in our band, and can't play licensed venues."

"They're lining them up at the rides, though."

"That's great," said Louis. "That's going to help our bottom line."

"Our bottom line? What do you care about our bottom line? That's the organiser's concern." 

"We want this to be profitible, for other bands in the future," said Louis.

"Who cares about other bands in the future?" 

"Stan, you're a mercenary." 

"I've read Raymond E. Feist's books. I assure you I'm not a mercenary."

"I've read Raymond E. Feist's books too, and I just about threw up at his treatment of women," said Louis. 

"You must have only read selected works. He's not like that for the whole of his books." 

"But you admit he's like that for some."

"I didn't notice, actually."

"They'll never call you a feminist, then," said Louis.

"Here we are," said Stan. They were back at the band area. The sound of a blend of raucous guitars could be heard. 

"I didn't know we could plug in," said Louis.

"You weren't listening. We can plug in. It's just, so can everyone else."

Stand and Louis made their way back to the Rogue's section. Geoff and Jona had plugged in, and were practicing, over the sounds of Amused, and White Eskimo. It sounded terrible. 

"Stop. For the love of God, stop," said Stan. 

"What?" said Geoff.

"You sound like shit."

"What are we supposed to do, with every other band around us plugged in?" said Geoff.

"Didn't you bring an acoustic," asked Louis.

"No. Didn't think it would be necessary."

"Well, damnit."

He glanced over at White Eskimo. But White Eskimo were practicing without their lead singer. Louis looked around a little more, to discover said lead singer was flirting with the girls from Dead Flowers. Typical, thought Louis. And how old was he, anyway? He didn't look eighteen, that was for sure. His fantastic curls couldn't hide his baby-face. 

"Play," Louis told his bandmates. "Just play, anyway. Whatever. I'll pick it up." He looked back at Harry, Harry Styles, what kind of name was that, anyway? Harry shimmied, for whatever reason, and Louis swallowed. He looked up as his band hit the intro notes, and swung around. He sang with them on one of their main tunes, one they were sure was going to blow the judges away. Joe tapped against his snare and hi-hat, which he'd set up. 

"Do you think you're Brian Richtie?" Louis said to Joe at the end of the song.

"Hey, if it's the only way I can play, I'll play that way, thank you very much," said Joe.

Loius looked across at White Eskimo. Harry was back, sitting on his amp, facing his band, much as Louis was, singing softly to them. Louis tried to listen to him. He had a deep, husky voice, very sexy. Louis henceforth decided to ignore him.

He sang along, softly, to his own band's songs instead. They were pitch perfect, he thought. Everyone was on. No one was going to make a mistake. Not even Joe, although he hadn't been able to practice properly. Louis was sure of them all.

The power abruptly cut off. Suddenly there was silence. They heard the sounds of the first band tuning up on stage. 

"Sorry, everyone," announced one of the attendants. "But the first band's about to start playing. Any rehearsing you do will have to be silent from now on."

There were groans around the area. Stan put his guitar down and stood up. "We should go watch the competition. We can always practice later. We're one of the later bands on." 

"All right," said Louis, and they stepped out to the wings of the stage area to hear the band currently on stage, 'The Chargers', Louis believed they were called. They weren't the only ones who'd had the idea to watch. Several other band members from various bands were already there. 

After he'd been watching for a while, a voice hovered against his ear, "Do you think they'll make it?"

"I don't know. They're good," said Louis.

Before he got more than a glimpse of curls, the voice spoke again. "Do you think they're better than you or me?"

Louis looked back, then. He had to. It was Harry, of course, Harry from White Eskimo. "They're not better than us," he said, moving close to Harry's ear so that he could hear. Harry smelled nice, a hint of cologne, the warm smell of boy underneath. "Dunno about you."

"No," said Harry, firmly. "They're not better than us either."

"Then we've got nothing to worry about," said Lous. "When are you on?"

"Seven." 

"We're on at eight."

"Lucky. That's a good time. All the audience will be really into it by then."

"You'll rock them out, I'm sure," said Louis.

"I'm really nervous," admitted Harry, still leaning into his ear. He pulled back.

"Why are you nervous?" said Louis, leaning so that he could speak into Harry's own ear, mostly covered by hair. 

"I just, I think we won those heats by a fluke, and I don't think we'll make any impression tonight. After all, these are the top twelve school bands from the northern area. And I'm only sixteen." 

"Sixteen?" said Louis.

"Yeah, why, what does that matter?"

He'd been thinking of Harry's lips. He'd been thinking of Harry's tight, fit, sexy body. He'd been thinking of all the things he shouldn't. 

"You're so young," said Louis.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen," said Louis.

"So? You're two years older. That's not a big deal."

"Two years is a lifetime at our age."

"Listen to you. Anyone would think you were Old Man Time," said Harry.

"Huh. So, tell me about yourself, young Harold," said Louis, interested to know his story.

"Firstly, my name's not Harold. It's Harry. Harry Edward Styles."

"Why didn't they call you Harry Eddie Styles?" teased Louis.

"That sounds stupid. What's your full name?"

"Ah. I'm an enigma," said Louis. "I was born with one name, and now I have another. Right now I'm called Louis William Tomlinson. But that could change at any moment."

"Why were you born with a different name?" asked Harry.

"Because my father gave me the name. After the divorce and consequent remarry, Mum wanted to erase all traces of my father. So I was given a different name. A much cooler name, actually."

"What was your name before?"

"Louis Troy Austin."

"I like Louis William Tomlinson better," said Harry.

"So do I," said Louis. "Do you want to chat? Let's go somewhere quieter. All I can see of you is your hair."

At that, Harry abruptly lowered his head, shook his curls out, then lifted his head once again. It was endearing. "Let's go, then."

The band area behind the stage was no place for a chat. It was full of people. "Let's go outside," said Louis, trying not to question his motives. He just wanted a chat, that's all. Harry Styles interested him.

They went around the corner. There was no one in the vicinity; it was restricted access, meaning only the bands and personnel could go there. And obviously none wanted to. They sat on the grass cater-corner to each other, knees almost touching. 

"So, what part of England hosts a Harry Styles?" said Louis. God, he had a cute face. It was so smiley, and Harry had gorgeous big features; big eyes, big nostrils, big lips. His mother would call it a generous face, thought Louis.

"Holmes Chapel," said Harry.

"Where's that?"

"Just south of Manchester. It's a small village, I think we have a little less than 6000 people."

Louis told Harry where he was from and they discussed the differences between a village and a small town. Then Louis asked about Harry's band, how they'd formed, for how long they'd been together. It turned out they'd been together a couple of years, played covers for a lot of that time, and had only recently progressed to original material.

"We only have four songs," confessed Harry.

"They must be good songs, to have gotten you through the heats."

"We're writing a fifth right now. I think it has promise."

"Sing it to me," said Louis.

"What, here?" Harry looked around. Definitely no one else present.

"I won't steal it from you, I swear."

Harry looked nervous. "I wasn't thinking that, I was just... you really want to hear it?"

"I can hear your other songs later. Sing me your new one."

"Only if you sing something back." 

"Deal," said Louis.

"You're confident, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm a bundle of nerves, but I hide it well. Come on, sing for me."

Harry let a breath out, then took a deep one in. Then he began to sing. His voice was medium-pitched, as expected for a sixteen year old, but with a husky edge to it that Louis found enthralling. He was good. He sang about loss, about losing someone, a best friend, perhaps, or maybe a lover. Louis wondered.

When Harry finished, he clapped. "I like it," he said.

"We still need a bridge."

"What key is the song in?" said Louis.

"A minor."

"Thought so. I wish I had a guitar with me. I know where you should take it." He began humming what he thought was a good first couple of chords for a bridge.

"Can you play guitar?" said Harry.

"A little bit. Just enough to get by."

"Haydn brought his acoustic. Wait, I'll go borrow it."

"Okay."

Harry jumped up and Louis waited for him. He soon came back with an acoustic guitar, which he handed to Louis.

"Oh, now you expect me to know what chords I was humming," said Louis.

Harry sat back down, once again so close their knees were practically touching. "It was in key. There's a limited possibility of chords you were humming."

Louis went through A minor note by note. He realised it was the seventh, diminished, and the fourth that he'd hummed. 

"Play the chords," said Harry.

Louis obligingly played the chords. Harry la-la-la'd along. It sounded good. 

"Can you play the whole thing through?" asked Harry.

"You know the song better than me. You must be able to play it better."

"I'm pretty rubbish at guitar," said Harry, as Louis handed the guitar over. "But I can do basic chords, I guess."

"I used a G diminished and a D."

"How do you do a G diminished?"

Louis leaned forward and placed his fingers on Harry's. He moved them manually to the correct positions. "That's your G diminished."

Harry strummed a few times, from D to G diminished. "Sounds funny. But it works," said Harry.

"What are you into?"

"Older stuff, like the Beatles and the Stones. And Green Day, Linkin Park, Kings of Leon..."

"Bit of a mixed bag." 

"Not really," said Harry.

"I don't like Linkin Park."

"What about the Beatles and the Stones?"

"Ultimate respect," said Louis.

"Good. Because if you didn't like them, we'd have a hard time getting on."

"We haven't had a hard time thus far, have we?"

Harry blinked. "Let me play this through. See what you think." He proceeded to play his band's fifth song all the way through, la-la-la'ing on the bridge, before sweeping back into the chorus. He wasn't the world's best guitar player by any means. He finished up with a couple of strums. "What do you think?" he asked Louis.

"Sounds great," said Louis, honestly. "I like the diminished chord amongst all the rest. Adds something."

"I agree," said Harry. "Does this mean I'll have to credit you as a songwriter?"

"Not if you don't want to," said Louis. "It was only a minor contribution, after all."

"No, it's changed the tone of the song. I like it a lot. Was it Louis William Tomlinson?"

"You can leave out the William," said Louis.

"Well, Louis Tomlinson, it's time for you to play a song of yours." Harry handed the guitar over.

"Okay. Well." Louis trapped the guitar under his arm. "This is uh, no... I'll do this one. Look, Harry, I'm really nervous, okay? Don't be surprised if I fuck up the guitar."

"It's okay. Just keep going, whatever your mistakes. Don't be embarrassed," said Harry.

Louis strummed the opening chords. It was a song about missed opportunities, every bit as much of a downer as Harry's song. It was one he was fond of, one that he considered amongst their best. They weren't playing it tonight, however. The top four that they were playing tonight was limited to the ones most likely to be crowd-pleasers, not necessarily their best songs.

He didn't look at Harry throughout the rendition. He stared down at his fingers on the chords. It was always safer if he played the guitar whilst looking at his fingers. He hit less wrong notes that way. Okay, so maybe he looked up once. Harry was sitting, elbows on legs and fingers up to his chin, staring avidly at Louis. Definitely best not to look up again.

He looked up again, finally, at the end of the song. Harry was looking at his mouth, and had a rapt expression on his face. He didn't lose it once he realised Louis was looking. No, he kept the rapt expression, the little bastard.

"That was amazing," he said. "The lyrics were great, and the song, so melancholic."

"Is that a good thing?" said Louis.

"Yeah, of course. I was really moved."

Louis felt suddenly shy under Harry's intense gaze. "Well, uh," he ducked his head, "thanks. I wrote the lyrics. The song itself was written by my band."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight."

"Oh, that's not a good representation of our stuff. It's one of my favourite songs of ours, but tonight is all about rocking out."

"Pity," said Harry. "That was a really moving song."

"Well, we're here to please a crowd and a bunch of judges. Please make sure I stay away from the judges' table." And he related to Harry the story of what happened at their last heat. 

Harry laughed. "I'm surprised you won."

"We didn't. Some other band did. But they had a colossal argument, fists thrown and everything, and split up straight afterwards, so we went through."

"You must have some good karma built up."

"Good karma? What is this, the nineteen-sixties?" said Louis.

Harry blushed and looked down. "Hell of a lot of good bands in the ninteen-sixties," he said, staring at his hands, which he'd folded down onto his lap.

Louis reached out a hand to his shoulder. "Just kidding. We've been together for over three years. We must have some good karma."

Harry met his eyes. "You know, our bands are probably wondering where we are."

"Probably," sighed Louis. He got up as Harry did, and handed him back the guitar. "Nice talking to you, Harry from White Eskimo. Now please, use your obvious aptitude to come up with a better name for your band."

"It's always been our name," said Harry simply. "What are you called, again?"

"The Rogue," said Louis, proudly.

Harry admitted it was a good name. They re-entered the covered area and went over to their respective bands.

"Where have you been?" hollered Stan. Louis could hear Harry's bandmates expressing similar sentiments.

"Just chillin'," said Louis.

"With that boy from White Eskimo? I saw you enter together."

"I helped him out with a song," said Louis, shrugging.

"You what?"

"Their name's White Eskimo. They obviously need all the help they can get," said Louis, dismissively.

"We don't help the opposition," said Stan.

"You sound like Jack Lee," said Louis.

"Who?"

"The lead singer from the Jack Lee Band. He's a right tosser."

Stan shoved him. "I'm not a tosser."

Louis regained his balance. "I'm going over to see him," he announced.

"Who? Jack Lee? What do you want to see a tosser for?"

"It amuses me." Louis hopped up. He glanced over to White Eskimo. Harry wasn't there. He was somewhere else. He felt a little anxious, but quashed it quickly and went over to see Jack Lee.

"Hi, Jack," he said to the blond-haired boy. "How's it going?"

"Piss off. What are you doing here?"

"If we're going to be rivals, we'd better make it good," said Louis. "What time are you up?"

"None of your business."

"Like I can't find out from the program," said Louis.

"It's seven-thirty," said one of Jack Lee's band members. 

Jack shot him a dirty look, before turning back to Louis. "Why don't you go and gather your information from someone who'll freely give it?"

"Such as?"

"Those birds from the Dead Flowers."

"Why them? Because they're girls? Are you sexist, Jack Lee?"

Jack flushed. "I'm not sexist. They've just been entertaining a lot of guys, that's all."

"Probably because they're nearly almost the only girls here," Louis pointed out. A couple other bands had female members, but the Dead Flowers were the only all-girl contingent.

"Whatever. They've been talking freely. I'm sure they'll give you what you want." 

Louis couldn't resist. With a calculated hand through his hair, an ever so slight hip thrust, he said, "I'm not what you want?"

Jack flushed again. "Oh god. Get out of my sight."

Louis turned, wiggled his bum, and walked off. He glanced over his shoulder. Jack was staring at his bum. Hah! He went back to his band, told them he was going back to the side of the stage to watch the latest band. Currently on was the band from their right side, Amused. Louis felt the beat hit him as he climbed up the side of the stage. Their drummer had a double-kick. He edged forward past several other spectators to eye the crowd. The crowd had grown much bigger since he'd last checked. Now it was quite healthy. And the sun was still up. This boded well for the later bands. He tried to find his family amongst the spectators, but couldn't. He knew they wouldn't be near the front; the safety of the girls was paramount. And further back, the audience became a blur.

Amused weren't bad. Weren't bad at all, thought Louis. He could easily see how they'd won their heat. They were all spot-on, not a beat or note out of place that he could notice. Abruptly, he needed to wee. He'd been imbibing quite a bit from the free water, out of nerves. There were portable toilets outside the covered area. He ventured down once again. 

There was someone waiting in the queue. Louis stood behind him. Suddenly, Harry came up. "I see we have the same idea," he said.

"I may have been a bit of a dipsomaniac," said Louis.

"That means you're an alcoholic," Harry pointed out. "I haven't noticed you drinking any alcohol."

"You've been watching me?" said Louis, only to see a delightful blush, much more delightful than Jack Lee's, creeping over his face.

"No. I'm just saying."

Harry was cute. In his black clothes, with his earnest face, his gorgeous green eyes so wide and taking in their fill. Louis couldn't be blamed if he was attracted to him, even if he was sixteen years old. He was still in the closet and it was painful, sometimes, having no one know the truth. The vibe he got from Harry, though, he might just be as willing as Louis. 

Still, he couldn't take the risk. 

The boy in front of them in the queue entered one of the vacated toilets.

"There's a name for it," Harry was saying. "The craving for water. I don't know what it is, though."

"Well, let's hope I don't get water intoxicated," said Louis. By the look on Harry's face, he'd never heard of such a thing. "It's true. You can die from drinking too much water, just as you can die from drinking too much alcohol."

"How much is too much?" asked Harry.

"I don't know. But you have to drink a lot. Far more than you could normally take. Something like two litres an hour. Or something." 

"I've drunk a litre in an hour before," said Harry. A toilet had become vacant. "Nothing happened to me."

"Just drinking one litre in one hour won't do it. You'd have to drink a litre an hour all day, I reckon. It's hard to die from, but people have. I'm just saying. Drink your six to eight glasses a day, but don't overdo it."

"How could something as essential as water kill you?" wondered Harry.

"Hey," said the guy in the line behind them. "There's a spare toilet. You going to use it?" 

"Yeah, yeah," said Louis, and stepped into the toilet. As he did so, the other one vacated. He shut the door, unzipped his pants, and began to wee. Soon afterwards, the door to the other toilet closed. Harry was in there, he thought. Harry with his hand around his dick. His flow stuttered, and he shut his mind off until he'd finished. He washed his hands, and gingerly opened the door. He only hoped that everyone who'd been in before him had washed their hands. He didn't want the remnants of someone else's dick on his hands. Harry's would be fine, but no one else's. 

Harry was just stepping out, too. "We're up, soon," Harry called to him.

"So this was a preemptive wee?" said Louis, coming up beside him.

"Yeah. I always feel like I need to wee before going on-stage, so at least this way I'll know it's not real this time." 

"I wish I was as sensible as you," said Louis. "It's usually right when we get onstage that I realise I need to wee."

"Just go before-hand," said Harry. "Even if you don't feel like it. Go before-hand. Like, I didn't feel like I particularly needed to, but it's better than going onstage with a tight bladder."

"If you're on soon, that means we're on in just over an hour. I should be able to hold it fine," said Louis.

"You're a dipsomaniac, remember."

"Yeah, or whatever it's called. Aquamaniac?"

"That sounds like a cartoon supervillian," said Harry.

"Well, best get back to my band." 

"Yes," agreed Harry.

Louis said, in a rush, "I'll watch you. When you're on stage. I'll watch you."

Harry looked gratified. "I'd be happy if you did."

Then Louis made a mistake. He said, "For a sixteen year old kid, you're not bad."

Harry immediately bristled. "I'm not just a sixteen year old kid. I'm much more than that." 

"I didn't mean-" began Louis, but Harry had already brushed him off. Shit. He'd insulted Harry. He hadn't meant to do that. Harry stalked ahead of him into the covered area. He watched his back go. His shirt was untucked, so he couldn't examine his bum properly, but every other part of him was gorgeous. Shit, he swore to himself. He didn't know what he was playing at, anyway. This was going to be the only time in the whole wide world and whole of time that he saw Harry Styles. What did it matter if he offended him? 

But it mattered, thought Louis. He couldn't allow this beatiful boy to think he took him for granted. He went back to his band's area and looked over at Harry from time to time. But Harry wouldn't meet his eyes. 

Then it was Harry's band's turn onstage. Louis watched as he helped carry equipment to the stage, sound pedals and the like. He willed desperately Harry to look at him. But Harry deliberately avoided the Rogue's area.

"I'm going to watch," Louis told his bandmates.

"You sure? Shouldn't we get another practice in?" said Geoff.

"Geoff, if you don't know your part by now, heaven help you," said Louis. "I'm going to watch at the side of the stage."

"Shit," said Geoff, and Louis didn't really care why he'd said it. They had the whole time Jack Lee's band was onstage to practice, if Geoff was really that keen.

Louis took the stage, squirming amongst others to get to the front. White Eskimo had just started. Their first song was a mixture of punk and rock'n'roll. Louis found himself bopping his head to it. Harry, he noticed quickly, had a stage presence. He threw himself into his performance, shook the mic stand recklessly. His crotch hit against the mic stand more than once. Louis felt himself getting turned on. His voice, husky and sexy, his movements, his stage presence, all combined to turn him on.

"Not bad, huh," said a guy beside him.

"Not bad at all," said Louis, recognising the lead singer of The Amused. "I hope I can do as well." 

"Don't we all wish," said the lead singer of The Amused.

White Eskimo's second number was up. Harry threw himself into this song just as he did the first. If the microphone stand was an instrument, he'd be strumming it, thought Louis. Louis knew he himself didn't act like this onstage. He barely titled the microphone. He relied more on his voice itself to sway an audience. But if this audience was any guide, they expected more. Harry delivered what they expected. He practically rutted against the microphone, in a way no sixteen year old should be expected to do. He took sexy into the next dimension. Louis could feel himself getting excited. Harry was much more than he expected. 

He didn't move his eyes until a voice was suddenly in his ear. "You all right, mate? You'll catch flies with that open mouth of yours."

Stan. Louis shook himself and shut his mouth before glancing to the side. Stan was looking at him, an interested expression on his face.

"I... I'm fine," he said.

"They're our enemy, remember?"

"They're good."

"Their lead singer is good. This song's a bit weak, though." It was their third song. Harry had taken the mircophone off its stand and was prowling the stage. He caught Louis' eye as he approached this side of the stage. 

"If only you knew, how good I'd be for you," he sang, his mouth opening wide, looking like he was about to swallow the mic. It was a sinful mouth. Louis' pants tightened. Harry looked away, and Louis looked at Stan. Stan wasn't looking at him for the moment. He glanced down at himself. His shirt was untucked. It almost covered his hard-on. He tugged his shirt down a little futher. He shouldn't look at Harry anymore. But he couldn't help it. His eyes were drawn like iron filings to magnets in a school science lab. He's sixteen, Louis reminded himself. He had standards. Sixteen was too young.

Stan said something else in his ear. Louis startled. "Shush, Stan. I'm watching."

"I can see that," said Stan, sounding amused. He hadn't precisely come out to Stan, but he thought Stan knew. He'd let drop hints here and there, to guage his reaction, and he was always cool. He should trust his best mate, Louis thought. He should come out to him.

White Eskimo's fourth song. The torture was nearly over. Harry walked right to the edge of the stage and stretched his hand out towards the audience. There were some screaming teenage girls in the front row. They all scrambled to touch him. Harry had won them over easily. Louis looked to where the judges were seated. They were big-wigs of the music industry. Were they impressed by this performance? They were all watching, at least, no one drinking water or scribbling on their pad. Their expressions were hard to read. If White Eskimo didn't place, the judges' opinions were useless, as far as Louis was concerned. No matter how important they were in the music world.

The song finished. The drummer did excessive drum rolls as Harry pumped the mic stand at the ground again and again, shaking his curls. Eventually, the drummer had had his fun, and White Eskimo were leaving the stage. Harry bowed before he left, soaking up the applause. He looked enraptured. He headed towards the wings, and it seemed like he was deliberately avoiding Louis' gaze. His face changed expression, from enraptured to fierce. Louis wondered what prompted the change. He soon found out.

Harry swerved towards him. "Got anything else to say about sixteen year olds?" he shouted.

"Harry... Harry, wait!"

But Harry was pushing past, gone before Louis could do anything. Louis' eyes met Stan's. 

"Stan," he said. "We need to talk."

***

Forty minutes before your band was due on stage was not the ideal time to come out to a mate, but Louis simply had to do it. He dragged Stan outside, around the corner of the covered area.

"What's so important, Louis?" asked Stan.

"Stan, I know my timing is rotten," said Louis, "but I've got something to tell you."

"What is it?" Stan looked merely curious.

"I'm gay," said Louis, feeling anxiety swell in him. He kept his eyes on Stan.

Stan didn't waver. "Thought you'd been dropping hints. If you were a girl, you'd go for David Beckham. That was the most obvious."

"Stan, I need more than that."

Stan patted him on the shoulder. "You're my best mate, and I love you. Nothing's going to change that."

"Hug?" said Louis.

Stan didn't hesitate. He came forward and hugged Louis, the way he always did, with a quick grip and a couple of slaps on the back, before letting go. "Don't be anxious. I promise, we're still the same."

"I couldn't ask for a better mate than you, Stan," said Louis.

"Count on it. Now, come on, Geoff wants us to go through 'Battlefields' one more time. The only way to calm him down is to agree."

"He's not still worried about his solo in that?"

"It seems so," sighed Stan. 

Together, they made their way back around the corner, into the light of the covered area. Someone stopped them just before they gained entry, though. 

"Any of you got thirty pounds?" said the man. Louis didn't recognise him as a part of any of the bands; not that he'd observed them all, but this guy was older.

"Thirty pounds?" said Stan, incredulously.

"I've got some E, if you want it."

"We don't want it. Fuck off or I'll tell security."

They walked into the bands' area, both shaking their heads at each other. 

"At least we now know what was wrong with the lead singer from Motions," said Louis. "Aside from their unfortunate name, of course. Remember he kept dancing like crazy but forgetting where he was in the songs?"

"Yeah. They're going to place dead last. Fancy taking drugs before you go onstage."

They made it back to The Rogue's area. Louis looked at White Eskimo's area as he passed, but couldn't see any of the band. Most likely they were watching from the side of the stage, their stint done for the night. The Jack Lee band was on. Surprisingly, they were quite funky. Jack was part singer, part rapper. His rap was a little weak, Louis thought. He was putting on an American accent and sounded a little over the top.

"Good, you guys are back," said Geoff, looking relived. "We need to go through 'Battlefields' one more time."

"Geoff, your solo's fine," said Louis.

"I need to get my fingers warmed up."

"So play it to yourself."

"I have been. But I need it in context."

"We can't plug in," said Stan. "How will we even hear each other over this racket?"

"We can borrow White Eskimo's acoustic guitar," said Louis. He could see it, leaning up against the wall. 

"Great, so we'll be able to hear me," said Stan, "what about everyone else?"

"Please, Stan," said Geoff. "I don't need anyone to hear me except myself. I'll know if I'm getting it right."

"I'm sitting out, then," said Jonah. "I'm happy with my part."

"I'm happy with mine, too," said Louis.

"But Louis," said Geoff, "I need you to sing. I need the context."

"You don't need me, though," said Joe.

"No, you'll be too loud. Just me, and Stan, and Louis. Okay?"

"Anything to get away from this awful rap," agreed Stan, who had fetched the guitar. "They won't mind, will they?" 

"Nah," said Louis, although he actually had no idea whether White Eskimo's guitarist would agree.

Stan began strumming. Louis began singing. Geoff joined in on his parts earnestly, although neither of them could hear him. At the end of the song, Geoff looked happy. "I reckon I've got it."

"Mate, you've had it for a long time," said Stan.

"I can't think of anything more embarrassing than fucking up my solo."

"Not even going to school forgetting your trousers?" said Louis.

"Oh come on, like that's ever going to happen. This, however, this could happen. I've seen that audience. I've never played for so many people. It's nerve-wracking."

"You didn't have nerves in the heats," said Stan.

"They were only heats. If we lost, the world wouldn't have stopped turning. But this, this is the big one. Lose here and it matters."

"Stop putting so much pressure on yourself," said Louis. "The important thing is we go out there and rock out. If you hit a wrong note, no one will know. They don't know our songs."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" said Geoff. "I'll know."

"Just switch off and enjoy yourself."

"It just means a lot to me, okay?"

"It means a lot to all of us," said Stan. "We're all getting up on that stage and putting in our best, don't doubt it."

Loud applause could be heard from the audience, that wasn't followed up with another song. The Jack Lee band's set had finished.

"It's our cue," said Jona.

They had ten minutes to get their gear onstage, the same ten minutes the Jack Lee Band had to clear out. It was going to be messy. 

Sure enough; "Hey, what are you doing?" shouted Stan to a member of the Jack Lee Band. "That's my stompboxes."

"They're mine," said the Jack Lee member.

"I just put them there! Yours are those rubbish ones over there."

"Oh. So they are," he said, before squaring up. "They're not rubbish. I have wah, chorus, flanger, and delay."

"So do I, plus overdrive and phase-shifter. No way are you taking my stompboxes."

"Huh," said the Jack Lee guitarist, before going over to collect his pedals. 

"All right, mate?" said Louis to Stan.

"Yeah. Just keep an eye on my pedals for me, will you? I don't want that idiot nicking off with them."

"Okay," said Louis. "Now how about we get your amp?"

"No, keep an eye on my pedals. One of the others can help with my amp."

Louis kept an eye on Stan's pedals but no one seemed inclined to take them. He watched as Stan and Jona brought out first Stan's amp, then Jona's. Then they helped Geoff with his, two of them carrying the speakerbox, one of them bringing the head. An attendant made sure they were all settled, plugging them in, and making sure everything was okay. They were ready to go within ten minutes. They all looked to Louis, as their frontman. 

He squared up to the microphone. The aforenoted teenage girls were still in the front row, looking up at him. 

"Hello, everyone!" he called. He got some applause and a few cheers back. "Everyone having a good time? Enjoying yourselves? We're The Rogue, and we're here to entertain you. This is our first song, 'Remnants'."

Joe tapped them in, one-two-three-four, and they started. Louis played up to the audience as best he could, canoodling the microphone, moving a little bit, putting his hand up to his lower rib-cage during the chorus. He was no Harry Styles, that was for sure. He had no confidence in his ability to dance, so the microphone stand stood for him as a grounding instrument, rather than a tool to utelise the way Harry did. Intrepidly, during their second song, he took the mic off its stand and wandered the stage, hitting hands with the screaming teenage girls at the front much as Harry had done, before winding his way back to the mic stand and the last chorus. Their third song was a catchy, rock-all-out number, which usually motivated audiences to dance. Sure enough, the teenage girls at the front were giving their all. Louis couldn't see much further back; now that the sun had all but gone down, they were solely reliant on the stage lights to see, and they didn't stretch back far into the audience. Sure, there were lights littered throughout the audience, but they weren't strong enough for Louis.

Their fourth song was 'Battlefields'. This had caused a controversy amongst the band; Jona reckoned it was too much of a downer for a fourth song, but Geoff thoroughly endorsed it, mainly because he loved his solo in it. Louis, when his opinion was asked, said it should be their fourth song. It was different to their first three, a little less rockier, more introspective. But it was as catchy as all hell, Louis thought. They started and-

-and he noticed Harry at the side of the stage. Harry had reappeared. Harry was watching. Louis turned back around, lest he betray himself. He began singing the verse, conscious of Harry watching. He put in a good performance, he knew, straining at the very fibres of his being to produce the emotion needed. He sang,

"I'm a soldier, without a home;  
I left my heart on the battlefields.  
It was torn from me, but I let it be,  
And now I'll be forever alone."

He put as much emotion into it as he could. He was practically raking his nails down his chest. He looked at Harry. Harry was looking back at him with an unreadable expression. Louis sang;

Come lie with me on my bed of nails,  
It'll only hurt for a while.  
I'm a soldier, and I told you,  
I lost my heart, all other pain pales."

He kept glancing off to Harry as he did so, especially during the last line. He couldn't tell what Harry was thinking, though. The light wasn't good off-stage, not for the guys who were on it.

Stan bopped over. "Eyes on the audience!" he shouted in Louis' ear. 

Louis didn't look over at Harry again. Geoff nailed his solo, and they were playing the final chorus. The song ended with a coda, and, knowing it was their final chance to impress, Louis sung his heart out. He glanced at the judge's table. They were all watching. He looked away quickly, in case they thought he was manipulating them. 

The final notes wailed out of Stan's and Geoff's guitars. Louis shook his head, and the mircophone stand, back and forth. Applause rose. The teenage girls screamed. They'd had three lookers in a row; Harry, Jack Lee, and now himself. Okay, maybe Harry and Jack Lee were slightly cuter, but he wasn't so bad himself. He waved enthusiastically at the audience, thanking them effusively for listening. Then the lights dimmed, and a couple of attendants came out to help them off.

Louis looked to the side of the stage again for Harry. He was no longer there. 

They got off stage and the next act, the Dead Flowers, came on. Time for all the boys in the audience to start screaming, thought Louis. He helped his band carry off their equipment within the allotted period of time. "Best of luck, Melissa," he said to the Dead Flowers' lead singer.

"Thanks, Louis," she smiled. "If being wished luck has anything to do with it, we're going to place at least."

Louis planned to watch them, but first he wanted to find Harry. He found him at the water dispenser. "Harry, can we talk?"

Harry considered it. He closed his eyes slowly, before opening them again. "All right," he said, shortly.

"Come away from there," Louis beckoned him. No one was hanging out a few feet away, so he stopped there, and turned to face Harry. "I'm sorry I said that, about you being sixteen. I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes you did," said Harry, looking fierce once again. He was adorable, his earnest face scrunched up into a scowl.

"Look, Harry. I like you, all right? I don't want to argue with you."

"You like me? What does that mean?" Harry's expression grew unreadable.

"You're a cool guy. Even though I might never see you again, I don't want you to be mad at me." Harry still hadn't unbent, so Louis decided he'd say what he came to say. "I just wanted you to know that I thought you were great tonight. You're a feisty little devil, aren't you?"

Harry blinked but wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Come on, smile," said Louis. "I know you want to."

"Go away," said Harry, but there was the beginnings of a smile on his face.

"You had those girls in the front row all hot and bothered."

"They weren't the only ones," said Harry, and now he met Louis' eyes. 

Louis took a deep breath. "Who else?"

Harry stared at him, before flicking his eyes south and back up again. "You could see it from Mars," he said.

Louis was anxious all of a sudden. Harry had known he was turned on by his performance. He quickly tried to set the record straight. "Harry, it's not important. When I said I liked you, I wasn't talking about, you know-"

"Yes, you were."

"Confident, aren't you?"

Harry smiled, a slow, sultry smile, and flicked his tongue out. "Want to go around the corner?"

Louis gulped. "Yes," he said. 

"Come on." Harry led the way out of the covered area, and around the side. Once again, there was nobody there. He reached his hand back to hold Louis' and pulled him further down. It was a full moon, so there was plenty of light. 

"Now that we've got some privacy, you can apologise properly," said Harry.

"Okay. Harry, I'm really sorry I-"

"No," said Harry, and, stepping forward, grabbed Louis' face, kissing him on the lips. Harry might be two years younger, but he was the same height, so it was no trouble for him. He drew back. "Now, apologise."

Louis breathed heavily, staring at Harry. Was he really asking what he thought he was asking? He moved forward, carefully, getting into Harry's personal space. He kept looking at him, but those green eyes, greyed out in the night, gave him no clue. He put a hand to Harry's shoulder and brought his head forward. Still no sign. He stared at Harry's plump lips. They were made to be kissed. So Louis, carefully, kissed them. There was no negative response. Emboldened, he kissed him again and again, chastely. 

Harry had started to breathe heavily through his nose. He moved his lips as Louis kissed him for a fourth time. He sucked on Louis' lower lip before biting down, ever so gently. That was it for Louis. He pulled back, then pressed forward again, opening his mouth, capturing Harry's lips in his own. His hands moved to Harry's head, stroking through his silky-soft curls. His mouth moved on Harry's. Harry responded, deepening the kiss, flicking his tongue over Louis' lips. Their tongues met, sliding together. Louis moaned, pressed himself against Harry, and licked into his mouth. He was hardening already, just from this boy's amazing mouth. They were gasping against each other, trying to breathe, not wanting the kissing to end. 

After being the passive partner for a while, Harry turned the tables. He pushed his tongue against Louis' and went into Louis' mouth. The feeling of Harry's tongue forcing itself on him made Louis feel weak at the knees. This sexy boy, who was beginning to harden against him, wanted him.

Harry ran a hand down Louis' back and gripped his bum. Louis pushed into him, at that. Their dicks rubbed together, in all their hardening hotness. Louis took control of the kiss once again, lapping into Harry's mouth, moaning a little. They kissed for a long time, until Louis broke off.

"This is all we can do," he said.

"What do you mean?" panted Harry.

"I mean, babe, it's not exactly private here. Who knows when some musician is going to come around the corner to smoke some pot?"

"I want you," said Harry, his voice husky.

"I want you too, but-"

"I have my mum's car keys." 

"You what?"

"I have my mum's car keys. She made me take an extra set in case she locked hers in the car."

"Does she do that often?" said Louis, a little bewildered.

"Often enough." Harry grasped his hand. "Come on." He tugged Louis back along the grass, out onto the asphalt. They walked up the roadway to where a whole bunch of cars were parked.

"Do you know where it is?" said Louis.

"Yep. Just up here a ways." He pressed the unlock button, and a land rover's lights further ahead lit up. "It's roomy. We won't be too cramped." 

Harry tugged harder on Louis' hand, speeding up now that they were nearly there. Louis squeezed back. 

They arrived at the land rover, and Harry said, "Back seat?"

Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to have car sex with some boy he'd just met? Louis looked at Harry's face. Harry's face shone with eagerness. He was beautiful. 

"Back seat," agreed Louis, and Harry opened the door, clambering in, before beckoning Louis in. Louis climbed in beside him and shut the door. Harry switched on the interior light.

"Are you sure we should have the light on? What if someone comes up?"

"No one's going to come up," said Harry. "The concert doesn't end until ten. We've got plenty of time. I want to see you."

"I want to see you, too."

Abruptly, Harry was diving at his mouth. He was sitting with one leg crooked on the seat, one foot on the floor. Louis sat similarly. They kissed, but Louis felt acutely the lack of body contact. 

"Wait," he said. 

"What is it?"

"Want to feel you." Louis shuffled closer. "Is this okay?" He straddled Harry's lap, one leg hooked up on the seat beside Harry, the other stretching over his thigh so that his foot was supported on the floor.

"More than okay," said Harry, and resumed kissing him.

Louis' hard-on had deflated a little in the walk up to the car, but it filled out quickly once they were kissing again. He could feel Harry filling out, too. The combination of Harry's mouth on his, his hardness pressed up into Louis, was heady. Louis ground his hips downwards and Harry jerked and gasped. 

"Yeah," said Louis.

Harry's hands slid around to his bum. "You've got the best bum I've ever seen," he breathed into Louis' mouth. 

"Want some of it, do you?"

Harry just groaned, and kissed him harder. Louis ran his hands under Harry's shirt, feeling the warm, smooth skin, dipping down to his waist and back up to his shoulders. 

Abruptly, Hary broke off. "Want to take my shirt off," he said. "Take yours off."

Louis stripped his t-shirt off easily and waited while Harry undid his buttons. "Take your trousers off, too," he said. He got off Harry's lap to allow him to do so.

Harry looked at him, tongue in the corner of his mouth. "Hell, yeah," he said, and reached down to pull off his shoes, and to shimmy out of his trousers. Louis did the same, discarding them behind him. All he wore now was his boxer-briefs. Harry wore his boxer-briefs and socks. 

"Take your socks off," said Louis. "I want to see your feet." 

"Have a fetish?" said Harry, obligingly removing his socks.

"A little bit. Yeah, that's right. God, you look so hot."

"Come back," said Harry, indicating Louis should straddle him again. 

They kissed some more, but now their hands moved with more intent. Harry brought his down over Louis chest a few times, massaging, before returning to his bum. Louis stroked Harry down his chest, around to his back, and down his chest once again. Having this warm bundle of boy in his arms was amazing. To get to touch him, the solid plane of his back, his long neck, his tight stomach; Louis was the luckiest boy on the planet.

"I have four nipples," announced Harry.

Louis pulled back. "What? Where? Show me."

"Two in the usual spot," said Harry, "and one here, and one here." He pointed to the spots on his lower chest and abdomen.

"They look like overgrown freckles," said Louis.

"They're nipples, I swear."

"Do they have as much feeling as your normal nipples?"

"Why don't you try them and find out?" said Harry.

Louis licked his fingers in front of Harry, and brought his hand down to his left pectoral nipple. Gently, he rubbed the nub. It was already hard, but as Louis rubbed, it became harder. 

"So fucking sexy," murmured Louis. He yelped as Harry, hands still on his bum, slid them under the waistband of his boxers. 

"You're fucking sexy," said Harry. He kneaded Louis' bum, his fingers running dangerously close to Louis' hole. 

Louis was so turned on. He wriggled his bum in Harry's large hands. "Let's try your other nipple," he said, licking his fingers again. He moved down to the lower nipple on Harry's left side. He played with it, hardening it up. Harry gasped. "You are sensitive," he said.

"They're fucking nipples, of course they're sensitive."

"Cheeky." Louis circled his hand on Harry's chest, so that he was taking in all four nipples. Harry pushed his hard-on up against Louis'. "You like?"

"Mmm, yeah." Harry's head titled back, eyes closed, as Louis, breathing heavily, ground their dicks together. "Oh, yeah, Louis."

"I want to keep touching your nipples, but I want to touch your dick, too," said Louis.

"You've got two hands," said Harry.

His second hand was currently propped on the seat back, steadying him on Harry's lap. He removed it, risking overbalancing, and brough it down between where their bodies were joined. He grasped Harry's length through his boxer-briefs, running his fingers up and down. Harry gasped and bucked into his hand. 

"Touch me," he begged.

"I am touching you." 

Harry breathed heavily. "No." He pulled his hands back from Louis'bum--Louis felt the loss-- and abruptly yanked his underwear down under his balls. "Touch me properly." 

Louis looked down. Harry's stiff, beautiful dick was reddened at the tip and leaking precum. Reverently, he touched, running fingers up and down the underside. Harry bucked into his hand again, so he opened his hand and took Harry in his fist, squeezing. Harry made a small noise. Louis pulled up and down. More noises came from Harry. Harry had moved his hands back to Louis' bum and was now pressing the fingers of one hand against Louis' rim. Louis rutted against Harry's hip. After a while, Harry pulled one hand offLouis' bum and put it on Louis' dick. He began to caress Louis. Louis gasped at the feeling.

"Oh yeah, Harry." 

"Do you like me touching you?" 

"Yeah. Feels fucking amazing."

"Let's get our underwear off," said Harry suddenly. Louis moved off him to pull his underwear down. He watched Harry do the same. Harry was so sexy. His naked body was gorgeous, from his beautiful face, down to his sexy big feet. His four nipples stood out, his dick held firm against his stomach, leaking precum. He was perfect. Louis couldn't wait to straddle him again. 

"Come on," said Harry. "Come back."

Louis obligingly restraddled him, tucking one leg against the carseat. "You're so perfect, you know that?" he said.

"You're the one who's perfect. Your bum, your gorgeous dick, look at how hard it is, and leaking, all for me, and did I say your bum? It's perfect." Harry encircled his rim again, and Louis bucked up against him, before taking Harry's dick in hand once again. Harry looked down, watching as Louis tugged him off, making little whimpering noises. Their hands on each other's erections steadied into a rythmn, jerking each other off, a little more frantic as the seconds passed. Occasionally, he left off Harry's dick, letting him rut up against his own hand on Louis. It was so hot. Their bodies pressed close together, leaving hardly any room to work their hands. But they managed it.

"Have you ever had gay sex before?" asked Harry breathlessly.

"No. Have you?"

"No."

"We're each other's first times," said Louis.

"No one I'd rather have a first time with. Oh, Louis, you feel so good against me. I'm so turned on." Abruptly, the finger circling his rim entered him. Louis couldn't help but gasp at the stimulation.

"Harry! How do you even know how to do that?"

"I've fingered myself," said Harry. "Know how good it feels. Does it feel good?" He rolled his finger inside Louis.

"Oh, yeah. Feels so good, babe."

"I'm gonna bring you off like this."

Louis didn't know which way to press; forwards, into Harry's fist, or backwards, down on Harry's finger. To return the favour, he rubbed against Harry's nipples once again. That soon had Harry gasping. Four nipples meant twice the fun. Louis loved to thumb against the hardened nubs. He rubbed his chest onto Harry's, trying to stimulate all four at once. Harry's body was so warm, so tight, so very fit. Harry moaned and flung his body hard against Louis, trapping Louis' hand against his left pectoral nipple. Almost at once, they stopped pulling on each other's dicks, and began rutting against each other. Feeling Harry's slick dick against his own was so pleasurable, trapped between their bodies as they were. Heat began rising in his groin. He was stuck in the pre-orgasmic phase, where he became powerless to do anything except repeat the same action faster and faster. So he rubbed at Harry's nipple, and ground into him relentlessly. The noises Harry was making, the noises he himself was making, only turned him on more. They moved desperately against each other. 

"Come on, Louis," said Harry, his voice wrecked.

Louis opened his eyes, looked at his face. Harry's face looked as wrecked as he sounded, his lips swollen, his pupils dialated, his whole face flushed. "God, I'm so close."

Harry encircled his finger roughly inside Louis, and Louis keened with pleasure. "I turn you on?"

Louis panted. He could hardly get a coherent set of words out. "Never been turned on so much in my life."

"Kiss me."

Almost unable to function, Louis nevertheless managed to latch onto Harry's lips. They kissed, gasping as much as kissing. Louis forced his hand back down to Harry's dick, wanting to bring him off. "Touch me," he whispered to Harry. 

Harry obliged, bringing his hand back down the tight space between their bodies, grasping Louis once again. They settled into a relentless, jerky rythmn. 

Harry's fingers--he'd added a second-- were moving inside him, hitting his spot. He wasn't thrusting in and out--without lube that would have been difficult--but was rolling his fingers, and stroking against him, and it was more than enough. The stimulation he was getting from both sides left Louis no room to manoeuvre. He whimpered into Harry's mouth. "Oh, Harry, I'm gonna cum."

"So'm I. Come on, Louis, do it for me," said Harry. He rubbed his fingers firmly inside Louis once again, hitting his spot again.

That was enough. With Harry gripping his dick, Louis came. He moaned through his orgasm, thrusting desperately into both of Harry's clever hands. Before he was finished, he heard Harry begin to gasp loudly, felt him pulsing over his hand. One of Harry's jets hit Louis on the chin. It was so fucking sexy.

Louis gathered Harry up, cum sticky between their chests, into a firm hug. "Oh my god, that was so amazing."

"Yeah," breathed Harry, head tucked into Louis' neck. "Yeah." His hand was still around Louis' dick, although mercifully he'd stopped tugging. The warmth of his hand nestled Louis' dick. His finger was still up Louis' bum. "Louis, I've never felt like this before."

"Me, neither," whispered Louis.

"I don't want this to be a one-off thing."

"I don't, either."

Harry panted into his neck a few more times. "Will you give me your number?"

"Will you give me yours?"

"Of course."

"Then, yes."

Harry pulled his head from Louis' neck, pulled his finger from Louis' bum, and kissed him. They kissed languidly for a time, until Louis, worrying about the time, asked Harry for it. Harry had a watch around his wrist.

"It's nine-twenty-five," said Harry.

"Damn. We should be getting back. They're going to do the announcements at ten."

"Do you really think you're a chance?" asked Harry seriously, looking into his eyes.

"No," admitted Louis. "There were bands ahead of us. And I didn't even get to hear the Dead Flowers. I reckon you're in the running, though."

"Us? We're only sixteen. You know how people feel about sixteen year olds."

"Harry, I swear to god, I'm sorry I ever said anything. I was attracted to you, and I was worried I was robbing the cradle."

"You're not still worried about that?"

"No. It's been right between us. The age difference doesn't matter to me."

Harry leaned back to grab his trousers from the seat behind him. He pulled out his phone. "Give me your number." 

Louis recited it. Harry programmed it. Then it was Louis' turn to grab his phone, and to ask for Harry's number. Harry gave it and Louis, making him repeat it to be sure he'd got it, programmed it into his phone.

Harry reached across--they'd turned side on to grab their phones--and grabbed Louis' dick. "I love your dick," he said, caressing it. 

Louis' dick twitched. He desperately wanted to go again with this beautiful boy. Regretfully, however, he said, "Harry, it's twenty-five past nine. We have to get back."

"Do you love mine?"

"Are you kidding? I worship yours. You're the hottest boy I've ever met." 

"Same," said Harry. 

Louis bent down and kissed the top of Harry's dick. He kissed Harry's twitching dick again, tasting his cum, before straightening up again. "We're messy. Do you have tissues?"

"In the glove compartment," said Harry, squeezing between the seats to fetch them. He came back. "You're a mess," he giggled.

"I know. There was a boy, shooting cum into my face."

Harry giggled again. It was the most endearing sound. Louis grabbed a couple of tissues from the pack Harry had and cleaned himself up as best he could. He took a last moment to drink a fully naked Harry in, from his head right down to his toes. Then, reluctantly, he began to get dressed. "We didn't get cum on the seat, did we?" he asked.

"Not that I can see," said Harry, beginning to dress himself. Soon they were both fully dressed. It felt awkward, after how naked they'd been. "Wow," said Harry. "You're still hot, even with clothes on."

"So are you. Although your shirt hanging out stops me from seeing your bum."

"As long as I can see yours," said Harry. "Your shirt isn't long enough to cover it."

"You could always tuck your shirt in," suggested Louis.

"I'm not wearing a belt. It would look stupid. You'll just have to suffer."

"I'll just have to use my imagination. Let me just cop a feel." Louis tucked his hands under Harry's bum and pressed his fingers into the rounded cheeks. Yeah, he could use his imagination.

Giggling at each other, they left the car. Harry locked it, and they began to make their way back to the stage. Harry slipped a hand into the back pocket of Louis' trousers, gripping his bum.

"You really like my bum, don't you?" said Louis.

"Have you seen it?"

"I admit, it's not bad," said Louis modestly.

"Put your hand into my pocket."

Louis lifted Harry's shirt and stuck his hand into Harry's back pocket. He enjoyed the feeling of walking close to Harry, his hand around the warm firmness of his butt-cheek. They stayed like that, until they neared the entrance to the band area. Then Louis withdrew his hand. Harry kept his in Louis' pocket, however, until people popped into view outside the band area. Sighing, he removed it.

"Please tell me this isn't the only time I get my hands on your bum," said Harry.

"Please tell me this isn't the only time I get to kiss you, pull you off, and play with your nipples."

"Louis, I really like you."

"I really like you, too."

They met each other's eyes. They gazed at each other with fondness. Louis felt on top of the world. He'd just had the most amazing boy quivering and gasping under his hands.

But all too soon they came upon the entrance to the covered area. Onstage, the last of the bands was belting out their songs. It would soon be time for the presentation. Then Louis recognised a group of people hovering outside the covered area. His family.

"My family's here," he told Harry.

"So's mine," said Harry.

"I guess this is where we say goodbye."

Harry put his fingers up to his mouth, kissed them, and pressed them against Louis' cheek. "I'll see you inside. You don't get off that easy."

They separated and went to meet their families.

"Hi Mum, Dad, Lotts, Fizz," Louis greeted his family.

His mum hugged him. "You were wonderful tonight. You deserve every chance at winning. But where have you been?" She released him. "Stan said he didn't know where you were, so we've been waiting outside all this time."

"I'm sorry, Mum. I was doing something. If I'd known you were here I would have come straight away." How truthful that was, Louis didn't know, but it didn't matter as long as it appeased his mum. 

His dad congratulated him, and so did Lottie and Fizz, each of them coming up to hug him. 

"You were the best," said Lottie.

"What did you think of White Eskimo?" Louis couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, the band that was on a couple before you? Their singer was very impressive," said Mum.

"He was hot," said Lottie. 

"Lottie."

"But you were better," Lottie told Louis. "Your songs were better."

"You've heard them fifty times or more," Louis pointed out. "The judges were hearing them for the first time. Sometimes it takes familiarity to get into a song, you know?"

"Well, I don't know what the judges are judging on, but if they're judging by pure songs, you guys should win."

"Thanks, Lottie." 

"Just pointing out the truth," she said. "I watched all the bands, I don't reckon any were better."

"We're so proud of you, love," said his mum. "Now, we're only staying until they announce the winners, then it's bedtime for the girls, I'm afraid. We're staying at a motel up here. What are you doing?"

"I might go back tonight with the boys," said Louis.

"Be careful," said Louis' dad. "Driving late at night, fatigued, it's not the best idea." 

"Hotels are expensive."

"Couldn't you book out a backpacker's room at a hostel?" suggested Louis' mum.

"But what about the equipment? We can't leave it in the cars at a backpackers'."

"I'll pay for you to get a room," said his dad. He pulled out his wallet. "The place we're staying at, the Motor Inn Lodge, has rooms at seventy pounds a night. We're getting two, one for me and your mother, and one for Charlotte and Felicite. Here's seventy pounds towards a room of your own. Come and stay with us." 

"I'll need taxi fare," said Louis.

His dad pulled out some more money. "This should get you there. Knock on the door of room 61 when you arrive. Just so we know that you're safe." 

"Okay," said Louis. "Room 61, at the Motor Inn Lodge."

"You've got it. There's plenty of room in the car for you to travel back with us tomorrow. I'd much rather that, than you heading back to Doncaster so late at night."

"Well, we'll let you be," said Mum. "Now, Stan's father said he'd be taking Stan's amp back, is that right?"

"Yes."

"So we're not needed for any of the equipment."

"That's right," said Louis. 

"Well, we may not see you again tonight. We'll see you back at the motel, though?"

"I'll be there," said Louis, although he was rather missing the idea of driving back to Doncaster with his mates late at night. Still, if they didn't place, maybe it would be a mercy. Four depressed boys in a car wasn't his idea of fun.

They said their goodbyes, and his family left. He looked over at Harry and his family. Harry was just getting a hug from his mother. There was an older girl with his mum and dad; Harry must have a sister.

He turned and went back up to his band's area. 

"There you are!" said Stan. "Your parents are looking for you."

"I know. I've just seen them outside."

"It's twenty minutes to the announcements. I'm packing it."

"We're all packing it," said Jona.

"How were the Dead Flowers? I was looking forward to seeing them."

"Yeah, we noticed you disappeared, mate."

"They were excellent," said Stan. I reckon they're going to place."

"What about the band that's on now?"

"I don't know how they got to be last on stage. They're pretty ordinary, from what we've heard."

"I guess that's why you're not out watching them, then," said Louis.

"No, we'd rather panic quietly to ourselves here," said Stan.

Louis looked around at all their faces. They all looked excited, yet nervous. The same feeling began to crawl over him. He looked around for Harry, but either Harry hadn't come back yet, or he was somewhere else.

"I'm going up to watch the band," Louis announced.

"I'll come with you," said Stan. "Anything, to shake off these nerves."

They arrived up on stage for the second-last song. The band were competent, with decent songs, but there was just something not quite satisfactory about them. Their lead singer seemed mired at the microphone stand, and not much energy came from the other band members. They were a little dull, if Louis was to be honest. Still, the audience clapped enthusiastically after every song. Perhaps they saw something that Louis didn't see. 

It wasn't long before the band's set finished, and they were packing up. That meant it was ten minutes to announcements. Louis and Stan looked at each other. Louis could see the nerves in Stan's eyes, and thought that he could probably see the same in Louis'. 

"Time to wait it out," said Stan.

"I'm so fucking tightly strung. Is there something we can do? Did you bring a football?" Louis asked hopefully.

"No, mate, I didn't. Shit. I don't know if I can survive the next ten minutes."

"How about we wrestle?" said Louis, as they climbed down the stairs from the stage.

"Wasn't that what you were doing before?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you go off with that boy from White Eskimo."

Louis blushed.

"See! I'm right. You got it on."

"He had the keys to his mum's car," muttered Louis.

"Mate, I can't believe you. We're in the middle of one of the most important moments of our lives, and you go and get it on with a cute boy? Unbelieveable." But Louis could tell by Stan's face that he was joking.

"He's not just any cute boy," said Louis. "He's special."

Stan rolled his eyes but acquiesced. They made it back to their band's area. 

"Less than ten minutes to go now, lads," said Jona.

The last band was bringing their equipment backstage. 

Harry, meanwhile, had returned. He was sitting on an amp, side on to Louis. He and Louis kept exchanging looks. Louis couldn't believe he'd had him. He was so fucking hot, his legs stretched out before him in those tight black trousers. He felt his mouth get dry, and looked away. The attendants were telling those from the bands further towards the back to come forward. They then came up to White Eskimo and The Rogue. "Get ready to get up. The awards are about to be announced," said an attendant. "First will be individual awards, then finally, they'll announce the top three place-getters. Listen out, and be prepared to get onto the stage as quickly as possible if your name is called." 

"We'll do that," said Louis. He relaxed after the attendants left. "We're close enough to the stage to hear anything."

"I'm getting up," announced Jona. "I want to be closer to the front."

"Go ahead, mate. We'll be somewhere behind you."

White Eskimo, one slot further back, had all stood up, and were moving forwards towards the stage.

"Um, I'm getting up," Louis told Stan and Geoff.

"Yeah, we may as well get closer. Who knows?" said Geoff.

Stan slapped him on the back. "You're lacking in confidence, my friend. We've got as good a chance as anyone."

Together they made their way towards the bottom of the steps. Other bands were already crowding the stairs and wing area. Louis had to admit, they could hear the announcer much more clearly here. He'd just started to run his spiel, thanking the audience, thanking the judges, thanking the bands. Then he began announcing the individual awards, best guitar player, best bass player, best drummer, best instrumentalist. All of the winners arrived onstage to collect their award. Then it was best vocalist.

"Harry Styles," came the announcement.

Louis saw movement in the crowd on the stairs, and Harry began to push through the mass of people, who generally stepped aside once they realised who was trying to get through. Loius tried to get a little up the stairs, to see Harry, but he had to be satisfied with merely hearing Harry say thank you, and accepting his award. He watched as Harry came back down the stairs, though, back to his band, accepting pats on the back. He ached to reach him, but it was impossible. 

Then came the announcements everyone had been waiting for. The two runners-up, and the winner of the Battle of the Bands. 

"Third place goes to; well, we had trouble separating these bands, so third place goes to two bands." And Louis heard the rest of the spiel as though through molasses, for he went on to say, "White Eskimo and The Rogue, you've jointly taken third place! Come up to accept your prizes."

Louis couldn't believe it. Third place? And shared with Harry's band? It wasn't as much as he'd hoped for, but if he was honest, more than he'd expected. He'd expected they'd place a respectable sixth or seventh. But third? 

"Come on, Louis," said Stan, tugging him by the hand. "We're up! We got third!"

All Louis could think of to say was, "I told you 'Battlefields' was a decent song." 

"Yeah, yeah, mate, come on!"

The people on the stairs pushed back against each other to let them through. Louis saw, ahead of them, White Eskimo take the stage. The announcer motioned them to his side, obviously in order to wait for The Rogue. Louis' band finally made it up on stage. They stood to the side of White Eskimo. Louis met Harry's eyes. His face was gorgeously flushed and, despite his discomposure, he managed a wink in Louis' direction. Louis winked back, before Harry turned his attention to the announcer. 

"Firstly, White Eskimo, since you're closest, please accept the award from Healthways and our various sponsors! With third place you get a five hundred dollar voucher from Sounds music, and the chance to experience time in the recording studio with one of England's very best sound engineers, Scott Brayford! Congratulations, boys!"

All of White Eskimo seemed to expect Harry to step forwards, and so he did. 

"Would you like to say a few words?" said the announcer.

Harry nodded, and the announcer let him have the mic. "I'd just like to say a big thank you to all our families, who've always supported us, and a thank you to the crowd tonight. You were amazing."

Cheers and claps followed his statement. Harry stepped back, back towards his band, looking ecstatic. He showed the prizes to his bandmates, the vouchers and the trophy.

"And now," said the announcer, "will The Rogue step forward and accept their third place prize!"

Stan nudged him. "You go, Louis." 

Louis looked around at them all, but it seemed they agreed with Stan. So he went forward to have his hand shaken by the announcer's. The announcer offered him the mic, and he stepped forward. "Thank you to everyone who supported us along the way, thank you to the Storm Eaters" (they were the ones who split up and allowed them to get through to the finals) "for being so acccomodating, thank you to White Eskimo and the Dead Flowers, and Rut, and the Amused, and all the other bands who played today for making it such a huge concert, and thank you, last of all, to our families, without whom we'd never have come this far." He stepped away from the mic and the announcer nodded at him, before gesturing them off the stage. The Rogue followed White Eskimo back down into the bands area. They got some congratulations as they went, but most people were still focussed on who would place second and first.

It was Stan who first spoke to White Eskimo. "Third, you guys. How amazing is that?"

"It's what I hoped for," admitted Haydn, White Eskimo's guitarist.

"Wow, I can't believe it. We've placed! That's more than I hoped for."

"I wonder who's going to get second and first," said Louis. 

"The Dead Flowers were good," said Haydn. "They should get one of the two. Other than that, maybe the Chargers, the Drowning, who knows?" 

By silent consent they set their amps up so they were facing each other, and introduced themselves. Louis sat on the other half of Stan's amp. Joe, despite his earlier protests, sat on one of his drum cases. They discussed and dissected the Battle of the Bands. Everyone thought the Chargers would be impeded by coming on first, when there wasn't that much of an audience. The general consensus seemed to be that the Dead Flowers would come second, and the Drowning first.

Just after they'd decided that, came the announcement of second place. Sure enough, it was the Dead Flowers. They cheered amongst themselves. No other bands were down in the area; they were all hovering along and below the stairs.

"A toast," said Louis, "to the Dead Flowers."

"What are we toasting with?" asked Will, White Eskimo's drummer.

"I could fetch you some water," suggested Louis.

"Virtual drinks," said Stan, making a fist, and bumping it into Jona's. 

"Virtual drinks," agreed Louis, making a fist of his own, and pre-emptively bumping against Harry's hand. Harry looked at him, a mixture of lust and fascination. They all bumped fists together, then subsided as the first place getter was announced.

It was the Drowning. They would get a recording contract for an EP and get their song played on national radio. A fine prize indeed.

Louis was, however, happy with the prize his band had won. Sure, to spend the voucher they'd have to come up to Manchester, but time in the recording studio with Scott Brayford was worth it. He'd have lots of good advice for them, he was sure.

"Why do you reckon they chose two bands to come third?" said Haydn.

"I guess they couldn't separate us," said Stan. "You guys were good."

"You guys were good, too."

"I guess that's it, then," said Geoff.

"Maybe," said Louis cheekily, "if you'd worked just a little harder on your guitar solos-"

"Oh, shove off, Tommo," said Geoff, shoving at him.

"It's cool that we both won," said Harry. "We're like brother bands, now."

"Where are you from?" asked Stan, and thus followed a little bit of 'getting to know you'. Louis was content to admire Harry sitting on the amp, his long legs in leather boots stretched out before him. They met eyes often, and at first, looked away, but by the end of the conversation, they'd both become emboldened and were outright staring at each other, raking their gazes up and down each other.

Bands were beginning to haul amps outside. People, presumably families, were gathering at the entrance to the covered area. "Time to load up!" one of the attendants announced to them. He then went forward, to announce it to the people still lingering about the stage area.

"I guess we'd better get packing," said Stan, hopping off his amp.

"Yeah, if we want to sleep in our own beds tonight," said Jona. 

Harry came forward to Louis. "You're travelling all the way back to Doncaster tonight?" he asked, looking concerned. 

"No, I'm staying at a motel with my parents. What about you? You don't have far to travel, do you?"

"No. Less than thirty miles."

"You could always come back to the motel with me," Louis said in a rush. "I've got my own room."

Harry looked interested. His pupils dialated. But he shook his head. "Mum would never let me."

"Try her."

"And say what? I want to go and stay at the motel of this guy I just met, and it's all perfectly innocent?"

"Introduce me to her," said Louis. "I'm sure she'll like me. People's parents generally do."

"You're so cocky," said Harry, but it was with fondness. "Maybe if I borrow Hadyn's guitar, so it looks more like you're going to mentor me."

"Do that. It's a good idea."

Louis watched as Harry went up to Haydn and asked to borrow his acoustic guitar for the night. Hadyn nodded. Harry went back to Louis, clutching the acoustic.

"I have to meet my parents up at the car," he said. "Come with me."

"I'll just say goodbye to my boys, first," said Louis. He went back to his group. "Fellows, I'm heading off."

"Leave us to do all the lifting," grumbled Jona.

"Sorry, but I have to go. I'm staying up here at a motel room; my parents gave me the cash, so don't wait around for me." 

"Lucky bastard. We have to drive all the way back."

"My parents were concerned about Lottie and Fizzy not getting to bed on time."

Stan, who'd taken charge of the trophy and vouchers, slapped him on the back. "You go. You were great tonight; best I've ever seen you. You really opened up for the audience."

"We were all at our best," said Louis. He hugged Stan. "Thanks, Stan."

"For what, in particular?"

Louis pulled back. "For being the best friend anyone ever had."

"Off you go," said Stan, grinning. "I think someone's waiting for you."

Louis turned, to see Harry standing a few feet behind him, staring at him. In the direction of his bum, actually. The kid was really gone on it. Harry dragged his gaze up. "You ready?"

"Yep. Let's go so I can charm the pants off your folks."

"Please don't be that literally charming," said Harry.

"Just for you," said Louis.

They arrived at the range rover. "Get in the passenger seat," said Harry. "I'll take the driver's side. We may as well be comfortable while we wait."

Louis obeyed. Once they were both settled in the car, they chatted about the Battle of the Bands, how exciting it had all been, how amazing it had been to play in front of so many people, so many enthusiastic people. Then Harry asked Louis to play the last song The Rogue had played that night, because he'd particularly liked it. So Louis took the guitar and did his best with the chording, whilst singing 'Battlefields'. 

Harry clapped him when he finished, and Louis bent his body forward over the guitar in a bow.

"I really like the lyrics, they're not your standard lyrics," said Harry. "What inspired it?"

Louis explained, "In History, we saw this video where they interviewed World War Two veterans. I got the idea from that. One of them, he literally said, 'I left my heart on the battlefields'. I wanted to turn it into a song immediately."

"What a cool line," said Harry.

"That's what I thought."

"It's a really unusual rhyme pattern you've got going with the lyrics. The first and the fourth lines rhyme, instead of the second and fourth."

"And there's an internal rhyme in the third line," said Louis.

"Yeah, I noticed. I really like it. You're a good lyric writer."

Just then, someone knocked on the window of the driver's side, and the door was pulled open.

"Harry, we're here," said a lady who Louis guessed was Harry's mum. "We're so proud of you, darling. Give me a hug."

She'd noticed Louis with a glance, but obviously thought it was of greater urgency to congratulate her son. Harry's dad--his stepdad, Louis remembered from their conversations, it was just another thing they had in common--came up to shake Harry's hand. "You did good, Harry."

"Thanks."

"Who's he?" said the girl, pointing at Louis. 

"I'm a friend of Harry's," Louis called across the seats. "My name is Louis. Louis Tomlinson."

"Mum?" said Harry. "I want to talk to you. Louis, come on out."

Louis left the guitar on the seat and obeyed, coming around to the driver's side where Harry's family was.

"I haven't met you before," said Harry's mum to Louis.

"We only met tonight," Harry explained, before rushing into the question. "Can I go back with him to his motel room?"

"Can you what?"

"Go back with him to his motel room. Please? We want to do a bit of jamming," Harry lied with the most innocent of faces.

"I promise to take good care of him," said Louis. "I'm from Doncaster, I'm eighteen years old, about to graduate from high school; and I'm very responsible." Well, the last part was a lie, but the rest was true.

"No, Harry," said Harry's dad. "Out of the question."

"Mum, please."

"Harry," said his mother gently, "you're sixteen years old. You can't go off by yourself."

"It'll be just like a sleep-over," said Harry.

"Harry, it's after ten-thirty. No, it's too late. I want to know you're in bed and sleeping."

"Then, how about Louis comes back with us? He can sleep on one of the inflatable mattresses in my room."

"Harry, you're not going to get in any jamming tonight," said his dad. "It's late. It'll be straight to bed for you, young man."

"We can jam in the morning," argued Harry. "Please?"

Louis could go with this turn of events. "I promise I won't be any bother. We'll go straight to sleep. It's just that my parents didn't want me to drive back to Doncaster tonight, being so late and all." That had nothing to do with him staying with Harry, but a bit of smoke and mirrors never hurt.

"I can understand that," said Harry's dad. "But you've got a motel room, you said."

"It's not booked. My dad just gave me the money for it, that's all. It's seventy pounds, plus taxi fare."

"You'll have to get permission from your parents, of course," said Harry's mum.

"I'll phone them," said Louis, taking his phone out of his pocket.

Harry's mum and dad looked at each other. Harry pleaded with them again. Louis could see them relent. They couldn't resist the charm of their own son.

"Very well, Louis, but phone your parents first," said Harry's dad.

"I will do. Excuse me." He stepped a little away from the group but stayed close enough so that they could hear his end of the conversation. "Hi, Mum!" he said, as the phone was answered. "Were you planning to do some sight-seeing in Manchester tomorrow?"

"I thought we might as well, since we're here," she said. "Why?"

"I've been asked back to the place of one of the musicians I met tonight."

"A party? Louis, it's awfully late at night."

"No, not a party, just one guy. He's sixteen, Mum. I'll be staying with his parents. Nothing's going to happen to me. We just want to have a bit of a jam in the morning. You can speak to his parents if you want."

"Put his mother on," said Mum. Louis went back over to the group, who'd just finished hugging again at Harry's good fortune, and handed the phone to Harry's mum. "It's my mum. She wants to talk to you, if you don't mind?"

"I'll be happy to," said Harry's mum, taking the phone. "Hello?... No," she said into it. "This is something the boys cooked up themselves."

Louis and Harry glanced at each other. They were so close to getting what they wanted. Louis wondered what they were even going to do. The tiredness had hit him suddenly, after all the adrenaline of the night. As sexy as Harry was, by the time they got back to Harry's place and set up, he suspected he'd rather get some sleep.

He turned back to listening to the conversation on the phone from Harry's mother's end. It seemed they were coming to some sort of agreement. Harry's mum was giving out her address. Was yes going to be the answer? 

"Talk to your mum again," said Harry's mum, handing him the phone back. Louis took it. "Mum?"

"I've said yes. Make sure you're on your best behaviour."

"Mum!"

"Although I'm sure you will be," she added. "I've arranged to pick you up around ten in the morning. I've got the address, so everything's fine."

"Thank you, Mum. This means a lot to me."

"You can tell me all about it when we see you," said Mum. "Now, make sure you have a good sleep. You know what you're like when you're tired."

"Mum, I'll have a good sleep, I promise."

"Don't spend any of that money your father gave you. He'll want it back."

"I won't have a chance to," said Louis.

"Well, have a good night. We'll see you in the morning."

"Sure, Mum. Bye."

"Goodbye, my little rockstar," she said, and ended the call. Louis was glad no one had overheard his mum. He put the phone back into his pocket. 

"So everything's okay?" he said to Harry's mum.

"Yes," she said. "You can borrow some pyjamas from Harry; you're about the same height. Come on now, everyone, let's get back. It's getting late."

"I bags a window seat," said Harry's sister quickly.

"I'll sit in the middle," said Harry agreeably. They moved to climb into the car.

"Harry, why is there a guitar on my seat?"

"Oops," he said. "Pass it back to me, I'll take charge of it."

His mum passed the guitar into the back-seat, and Harry propped it between his feet. Louis got in after him, and shut the door.

Harry's mum asked him questions all the way to Holmes Chapel. Louis was happy to answer; he liked a chat. 

"Mum," Harry interrupted at one stage, "you're giving him the third degree."

"We're just getting to know each other," said Harry's mum.

"It's cool," said Louis to Harry. "I'm just getting to know your mum. That okay?" He was asking questions of his own, like what Holmes Chapel was like, and had they lived there all their lives, and what did they both do for a living? 

"I'm just protecting you from her," said Harry. "She can be nosy."

"Harry, that's not a nice thing to say about your mother," said Harry's mum, but it was affectionate.

"You know you can be, mum."

"Can't she?" said Harry's sister, who Louis had since learned was Gemma. "She scared my last boyfriend off."

"I did no such thing," said Harry's mum. "He obviously didn't have a stout heart. Better that you knew sooner rather than later."

The family bantered back and forth between each other for a bit. Louis relaxed back into the seat. It was nice. They were decent people. They'd have to be, to have raised a Harry Styles. He glanced at Harry. His eyes were shining with love as he bantered with his mum, pointing out all of her shortcomings. 

"Stop it, Harry. Louis will think I'm a monster," said his mum.

"Better that he knows sooner, rather than later," said Harry.

"Oh, you." She flipped her hand at him as if to ward him away. Harry giggled.

They arrived at the house, and Louis followed the family out of the car. Once inside the house, Harry's mum said, "You fetch the air mattress, Harry. I'll get Louis some sheets and blankets."

"Can he stay in my room?" said Harry.

"I don't see why not."

"Come up to my room," Harry ordered Louis. 

"As you wish."

"Oh, do you like The Princess Bride? I love that movie." Harry led him up the stairs.

"Me, too." 

They told each other jokes from The Princess Bride, ignoring the fact that Louis had, according to the movie, essentially said 'I love you'. Louis wasn't jumping the gun. Not at all. He could tell Harry was someone special, and he wanted to be part of his life.

"My room," announced Harry, flinging his arms out, guitar still in one of them, before allowing Louis to step in beside him. There was a bed in one corner, a dresser, a desk with a computer. Posters on the wall, postcards and photographs on a pin-up board. It felt homey, like Louis' own room, which was decked with posters. 

Harry laid the guitar down beside the desk. "Now I have to get the air mattress," he said. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

"Of course," said Louis, who was always in his element, no matter where he was.

So Harry left. Louis examined the photographs. Lots of pictures of Harry with girls. 

"Sorry, princesses," murmured Louis, "but I get to have him, not you."

Harry's mother came into the room soon afterwards. "Louis, here's some sheets and blankets for your bed. Borrow a pillow off Harry, he's got two. Is everything okay?"

"Fine. Thank you so much. You've been more than generous to a boy at loose ends."

"I like you, Louis," said Harry's mum. "You've obviously been well brought up. I have just one thing to say. Don't hurt my Harry."

And Louis realised that Harry's mum knew. Knew what was up between them. "I could never," he said, sincerely.

"As long as we both have his best interests at heart," she said. "Welcome to our home."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Harry came back with the air mattress. "You're not still quizzing him?" he said.

"No," said Harry's mum. "I'm satisfied. Have a good sleep, darling." 

"You too, mum," chirped Harry.

She hugged him, and left. Harry looked at Louis, and winked. "I've got the air mattress," he said, holding the airless folded item up, "and a pump. We should have this set up in no time."

Louis helped him unfold the air mattress, laying it beside Harry's bed. Then Harry attached the pump and began to work it. The mattress inflated at a satisfactory speed. 

"How's that for firmness?" said Harry.

Louis pressed down on the mattress. "Just a few more pumps, and it'll be perfect."

Harry sent ten pumps more into it, to be sure. Then he detached the pump from the mattress, and shoved it under his desk. "You need to use the toilet, you dipsomaniac?"

"Yes," said Louis.

"Come on." Harry led him to the toilet. "The bathroom is just next door, so you can wash your hands. Dry them on the blue towel; it's mine."

Louis used the toilet, washed his hands, and dried them on Harry's towel. Then he went back to Harry's room. Harry was searching through drawers at the dresser. "I'm getting you some pyjamas," he said, when he heard Louis re-enter.

"Don't bother. I can sleep in my shirt and underwear."

"I can get you a clean shirt?"

"Okay," said Louis. It would be nice to have a clean shirt, after wearing this one all day. 

Harry pulled another drawer open, and came up waving a shirt. "You'd better respect it. It's one of my favourites."

Louis took it. 'Dinosaur World 2008' read the logo, with a picture of a t-rex on the front. "This is one of your favourite shirts?" he said.

"My dad gave it to me. It was his. It might be a bit big." Louis pulled it over his head, and Harry giggled. "It is a bit big."

"It must be big on you, as well."

"It is. But it's one of my favourites."

"Why is it one of your favourites?" asked Louis, curious.

"It was when my dad got to go with us for an exhibition," said Harry. "He works so hard he normally doesn't have the time."

"A dinosaur exhibition? When you were fourteen?" Louis grinned.

"Oh, shut up."

"No, it's cute."

"I went more because my dad could go, than anything. I did love dinosaurs as a kid, though. Excuse me while I go have a wee." 

"Go ahead," said Louis. While Harry was gone, he made up the air mattress. For some reason, Harry had brought up a double-mattress. The sheets and blankets only just covered it. Certainly there was no way he could tuck them in.

He heard Harry calling goodnight to his parents, then he re-entered, shutting the door. He looked, eyes shining, at Louis, before beginning to strip off. He stripped off to his underwear. Louis couldn't help but gawk. He had such a tight body.

"Like what you see?" said Harry, moving forward, tossing his clothes on the bed.

"I love it. I love your body. But Harry, I'm really bloody tired."

"So am I," admitted Harry. "Do you mind if I sleep with you?"

"Of course not," said Louis, and abruptly had a bundle of Harry in his arms to thank him.

"I got the double mattress for a reason," he said into Louis' neck.

"I thought you might have."

"Let's get into bed." Harry began to do so. "Mum only gave you single sheets?" he said.

"What did you expect?"

"They cover the mattress. We can make it work. Just don't shift about too much." 

Louis looked at Harry. He had a semi-hard-on. "How did you wee with that?"

Harry pulled a face. "I managed it."

Louis abruptly pulled him into a hug. He could feel Harry's boner against his hip. "You're so fucking hot. Pity I can't do anything about it."

"Are you sure?" Harry murmured against his ear.

"I'm not kidding about being tired."

"Nor am I," sighed Harry. "Come on, let's get into bed." 

Louis needed no second invitation. A hot boy inviting you into bed was not something you turned down, no matter how tired you were. 

Harry switched his bedside lamp on, turned off the main light, and took the spot closest to his bed. Louis slipped in beside him. 

"Are you really going to wear that shirt?" said Harry.

"But it's one of your favourites."

"I like your bare chest better," whispered Harry.

"We're sleeping, right?"

"Right. But I've got to get it off with you again."

"Wait till the morning?" suggested Louis.

"I'll set my alarm for seven-thirty," sid Harry, stretching up and out of bed to reach his bedside alarm. "No one expects me up until eight, when Mum serves breakfast. We'll have plenty of time." 

"What do you want to do?" asked Louis.

Harry finished setting his alarm, and wriggled back down. "Whatever we feel like. But I'm going to give you a love bite on your bum, just so you know."

They met bodies, encircling each other with their arms. Harry was still hard. Louis was, a bit, too. He couldn't not be, around Harry. 

"Can I touch you?" whispered Harry.

"As long as you don't expect sex."

"No. I just want to hold you. I love your dick." Harry reached down along the front of Louis' underwear and put his palm over Louis' dick. Louis felt himself get harder. Maybe he wasn't as tired as he thought he was. No, he was, it was just that Harry superceded his boundaries. If Harry started caressing him...

Harry started caressing him. "Harry," moaned Louis.

"Yes?"

"You said you didn't expect sex."

"I don't. I just want to feel you."

"You're turning me on."

"Sorry," said Harry, and pulled his hand back suddenly. Louis groaned. No, he wanted Harry's hand on his dick. He wanted that more than he wanted sleep. 

"I hate you," he said.

"No, you don't. But you're right, we should wait until morning."

"I really really hate you."

Harry kissed him on the side of the face. "I'll stop molesting you. Let's try to sleep, okay?"

"You horrible tease," said Louis. "I can't sleep like this, not with your dick pressing into me. Turn around. I'll spoon you."

Harry obligingly did so, and Louis draped himself over Harry. He stuck his face into the back of Harry's curls and took a long sniff. Delicious.

"I haven't used deodorant since this morning," said Harry.

Louis sniffed at his armpit. Warm, musky, boy-scent enveloped him. "Doesn't matter. You smell nice."

"Stop it, I'm trying to sleep," giggled Harry.

Louis settled behind him with a sigh. He patted Harry's chest where his hand was. "No more talking."

Harry fell silent. His breaths began to even out, become longer. Louis listened, and observed every inch in his mind of where his body was touching Harry's. Harry felt so comfortable. He fell asleep, feeling Harry against him.

***

He woke up fuzzily to a soft 'brip, brip' sound. The mattress shifted under him and his arm was disturbed. He opened his eyes blearily. It was daylight. He was lying on his side, his arm lately up against Harry's, who had moved away from the spoon during the night, but still kept contact with him. The 'brip' noise stopped, and Harry flopped back down beside him, facing him. 

"You awake?"

"No," said Louis, closing his eyes.

A hand slipped around his body, to his back, and commenced stroking. "I want to cuddle you," said Harry. "Move your arm."

"Where to?"

"Ah, you are awake," said Harry.

"No, I'm not. I'm sleeping. Even sex with you won't get me to wake up."

"Here." Harry took hold of Louis' arm and stretched it out, before lying back down with his neck on Louis' arm. He wriggled closer, until they were touching everywhere he could put himself. 

Louis felt Harry's dick against his hip. He had a semi-hard-on. "Oh my god," said Louis, opening his eyes, to see Harry smiling back at him. "You're not just a feisty devil, you're a horny devil, too."

"I dreamed about you," said Harry. "I dreamed I had you up against a wall, facing it, and I was fucking into you from behind."

"You haven't had gay sex before. Have you had sex?"

"Yes. I have a girlfriend."

"I'm jealous," said Louis, only a little teasingly. "But I have a girlfriend too, so I can't talk."

"Split up with her," said Harry.

"Only if you split up with yours."

"Consider it done."

Louis took a breath. "Do you want to go out with me?"

"Yes," breathed Harry, and kissed him on the side of the mouth. "I want to, more than anything."

"It'll be a long-distance relationship," Louis warned.

"Do you have your license? Do you have a car? You could drive up and see me on weekends."

"Yes, I could visit you."

"And in between time," said Harry, "we can talk on the phone. Louis, I really want you." He pressed himself firmly against Louis, his hard-on making sure its presence was felt.

"Why?" asked Louis bluntly. "What about the boys in your school?"

"They're all too immature. I want a man," stated Harry. "I think you're really fit, and fun, and you make good apologies."

"You're gorgeous," Louis told him.

Harry preened, running a hand through his curls. "I'm not bad," he said modestly.

"You're the cutest little pumpkin I've ever seen."

"Pumpkin? Little? I'm not little. I'm big."

"Okay," Louis admitted, "so you're going to outstrip me. You're already as tall as me."

Harry thrust his dick into Louis' hip. "I'm big," he declared.

"Your dick? Oh baby, it's the best I've ever seen." Louis slid a hand down to touch it. "You're a shower and a grower."

"How many dicks have you seen?" demanded Harry.

"I have some porn mags. None of them compares to you."

"Are you out?"

"No," said Louis. "And you're not, I guess."

"I told my mum once I had feelings for boys and girls. She said it was okay, and not to worry, just to be myself."

"I like your mum."

Harry was caressing Louis' back. Louis had removed his hand from Harry's dick, and was now caressing Harry's scalp. Harry's eyes went half-lidded and he forgot how to speak for a while, before, "She likes you, I can tell," said Harry. "What would your mum say, if you came out?"

"I think she'd support me. We're really close, me and my mum. My stepdad, I reckon he'd be okay, too." 

"So why haven't you done it?"

"It's a big step," said Louis.

"I think you should do it. Tell them about me. I'm going to be phoning you a lot from now on, you're going to have to explain something."

"Okay. If we're still cool by the time I leave, I'll tell them."

"Why wouldn't we be cool?" cried Harry, cuddling him up tight. "Louis, I really really want you. Do I have to keep saying it? It's my age, isn't it? You're hung up about it, still."

"I shouldn't be," said Louis. "You're the most mature sixteen year old I've ever met."

"I'm not fickle. I commit. I'm willing to dump my girlfriend for you. What more do you want?"

Louis bundled Harry up in his arms. "Babe, I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself. I'm just scared, that's all. I'm already in deep with you, and you could hurt me a lot, you know."

"You could hurt me, too. I'm willing to take that risk."

Louis whispered, "I'm willing, too."

Harry was silent for a minute. "Now can we have sex?" he asked plaintively.

Louis laughed. He stroked his hand down to Harry's bum. "Yeah. I reckon. I didn't wake up at seven-thirty for no reason." 

Harry laughed, too, and kissed Louis. They stroked up and down each other's bodies and kissed, chaste kisses that came with promises of much more. Louis nibbled on Harry's plush lower lip. Harry responded by digging his hard-on into Louis. Louis rolled them over suddenly, Harry on the bottom, and began licking his way into Harry's mouth. Harry made cute mewling sounds. Before long, his tongue was flicking out to meet Louis'. Louis groaned, and allowed them to meet, stroking each other. Harry's mouth was amazing. So warm, so wet, so delicious. Harry didn't have morning breath, or if he did, Louis liked it. He liked everything about Harry, from the tips of his curls down to the tips of his toes. 

They kissed passionately for a while, Louis' hands in Harry's hair; one of Harry's hands in Louis' hair, the other stroking him down his back to his bum. Louis was beginning to grow hard just from their mouths. He pulled back, panting. "Harry, what are we going to do?"

"Whatever happens," said Harry, pulling him back down. "God, I love kissing you."

"I want to kiss your neck," said Louis.

Harry stopped pulling at him. "Yeah," he breathed.

Louis began to kiss down the long column of Harry's throat, making his way along the right side, over his pulse points. He planted open-mouthed kisses along Harry's collarbone. Harry began stroking both hands through his hair. Louis went down further, to his right pectoral nipple. He began laving it with his tongue, and before long, Harry was bucking into him. He moved on to all four of Harry's nipples, giving them all the same attention. 

"Double the fun for me," said Louis, looking up at Harry. Harry's head was thrown back, his breathing heavy. 

"Double the fun for me, too," murmured Harry, keeping his head thrown back, throat exposed. Louis leapt up to kiss him on his throat once more, before returning to the lower part of Harry's body. He kissed his belly button, then went down his almost non-existent happy trail, until he was tonguing along the waistband of Harry's underwear. Harry was breathing erratically.

"Yeah, Louis," he said. "Keep going."

"What do you mean?" teased Louis.

Harry brought his eyes up with some difficulty. "Suck my dick."

"You sure? I've never done it before. I might be rubbish."

"No, you won't be," said Harry, with certainty. "Just remember, don't use your teeth. I had a girl try to suck me once. She couldn't get the concept."

"No teeth," promised Louis. He yanked Harry's underwear down, and Harry's dick sprung free, like it had been waiting for this moment. He tugged the underwear off Harry's feet, and went back up, handling Harry's dick in one fist. It was enough, by itself, to make Harry gasp. Loius looked at him. He was lying, legs spread a little, looking up at Louis, his face full of want. Abruptly, Louis kissed the tip of his dick, and felt it twitch under him. He stretched his lips out to take more of Harry in, making sure there was no teeth in the way. He suckled at Harry's head, licking him on the underside.

"Oh yeah, Louis," said Harry.

Encouraged, Louis took him in a little way. He ran his lips up and down, moved his tongue, sucked on the length in his mouth. He touched himself as he did so. This was stimulating. Harry's firm and hot dick in his mouth, a pliant Harry under him. He allowed Harry further in, as Harry bucked. He could feel Harry's dick hit the back of his throat, and sucked hard. Harry made a keening noise.

Louis spoke around Harry's dick. "That good?"

"It's good. It's so good."

Louis sucked again, and brought his spare hand down to stroke Harry's hip, to caress his balls. They felt so lovely against his fingers, the velvety softness around the firmness. Harry bucked up a little more, but Louis could take him. He rubbed his hand on Harry's dick up and down as he licked and sucked. He could taste Harry's precum. It was bitter, salty, but not at all unpleasant, because it was Harry. 

"Oh, Louis," moaned Harry. "I'm getting close." 

Louis left off Harry's balls. With his spare hand, he grabbed Harry's thigh at the knee-join and hefted it up. Then he stuck two of his fingers in his mouth alongside Harry's dick. He wanted to finger Harry just as Harry had fingered him last night. Once his fingers were wet, he felt down for Harry's rim. He stroked his damp fingers up and down. Harry was encouraged to buck more into his mouth. Too far. Louis pulled off. "Harry, I can't take any more. You'll have to be satisfied."

"I am, I'm totally satisfied. But you touched me on my bum-hole. What was I supposed to do?"

"You like?"

"Of course I like. Keep doing it. Suck me and finger me. Please."

"Don't buck up," warned Louis, "or I'll stop."

Harry moaned again, but swore he wouldn't buck. Louis played with his dick for a while in his hand, whilst moving the fingers of his other hand up and down Harry's rim. Then he pressed inside, with one finger. Harry let out another moan. Loius returned to kissing the head of his dick, pulling the foreskin back. He twirled his finger inside Harry as he did so, and Harry made the most delightful noises. Confident, he added a second finger. He pushed up into Harry, as he took his dick down again, sucking and licking. Harry's arse muscles around his fingers felt so good. Louis groped for his special spot and realised he'd hit it when Harry bucked up into him again. 

"Sorry," said Harry. "Didn't mean to, but Lou, you feel so good. You're tearing me apart. I'm so fucking close."

At that, Louis continued his actions with enthusiasm, fucking Harry with his fingers, wanking him, sucking him off. Harry began thrashing about on the mattress. He moaned Louis' name repeatedly, until, "Oh, I'm cumming," and Louis pulled off his dick and, still wanking it, commenced licking around the head with rapid strokes of his tongue. All of a sudden, Harry let out a half-shout and he began cumming. The first bast hit Louis' cheek. He moved his head away, still licking at Harry's head, and the next pulses went god knows where. "Don't stop," moaned Harry, still cumming. "Oh, yeah, Louis." He panted. Louis kept licking, and fucking at Harry's arse. "I think you should stop now. Oh. Oh my god."

Louis stopped at both ends. "Harry, you're so fucking sexy," he said, and crawled back up Harry's body to kiss him. 

"Oh my god," said Harry again. "You've got cum on your face."

"I know, I wonder why?"

Harry scraped it off his cheek, and licked his fingers. "Gross," he said, grinning.

"Oh yeah? You're tasting it in my mouth, from your precum." 

"I know," said Harry, "but you're so hot at kissing." They kissed some more, Louis thrusting his dick into Harry's hip. He couldn't help but moan. He needed attention. Harry, realising this, brought his hand down to grasp Louis. "Want me to suck you off?" he said.

"Whatever," groaned Louis. "Just get me off."

Harry wanked him for a bit, then lifted his head. Louis fell to the side, as Harry mouthed him relentlessly down to his stomach. "You're big," he said. "I don't know if I can fit this into my mouth." 

"Yours is just as big, and I fit it in," said Louis.

"Yeah, I suppose you did. Okay. Here goes." Harry put a hand on Louis, and licked at the head of his dick. He licked all around, paying attention to the slit. "This okay?" 

"More than okay."

"I'll try to take you down as far as I can," said Harry, "but I can't promise anything."

"You'll manage it," said Louis. "That was my first time giving head, and I managed it."

"I'm nervous," said Harry.

"So was I. You'll do fine."

Harry wanked his base a few more times, then opened his mouth. Louis watched as Harry's sinful mouth took him down. He felt Harry suck on him, and groaned. It felt good. Oh so good. Harry's tongue, Harry's cheeks, the back of Harry's mouth, felt amazing against his dick. The sensations caused him to whimper. 

"All right, babe?" said Harry, around his dick.

"Keep doing... whatever you're doing," said Louis, barely able to be coherent.

And of course Harry's lips. Harry's lips running up and down his erection. The way it felt, the way he looked, his lips around Louis' dick, his hair falling over his face... god. 

Harry groped around his rim. Louis expected that. "Slick up," he said breathlessly. "Put your fingers in your mouth." 

"Yeah," hummed Harry, and brought the fingers on his spare hand up to his mouth. His fingers slotted in tightly next to Louis' dick. He pulled them in and out as he pulled Louis' dick in and out. It was sexy. 

"Harry, hurry up. I'm getting close." 

"As you wish," grinned Harry, letting his dick slip out of his mouth momentarily. He rubbed his fingers against Louis' rim once again, and began to probe in. Louis relaxed and took it. He knew how amazing it was going to feel. Sure enough, Harry was quickly making him whimper, just from his finger inside Louis.

"More," said Louis.

Harry obliged him with a second finger. They rolled, they scissored, they stroked. Then Harry put his mouth back down on Louis' erection and Louis felt his whole body shudder. "Harry," he gasped.

"Shh. Don't want to wake my sister."

"Fuck. Don't think I can be quiet. You weren't quiet."

"I know," said Harry. "But she sleeps like the dead."

"What's the time?" asked Louis. He made a noise as Harry pulled his fingers out of him so that he could get up and check his phone.

"It's five to eight," announced Harry.

"I thought we only had until eight?"

"That's the earliest I've ever been up on a weekend. I don't normally get up until eight-thirty, nine. Mum won't come looking for us, honestly." Harry settled himself back in-between Louis' legs. "And if she does, she'll just knock on the door, she won't come in."

"Hurry up and finish me off," said Louis. "I don't want to risk it."

"There's no risk," Harry assured him, putting his right fist around Louis' dick and abruptly shoving his fingers inside Louis. Louis gasped. "That didn't hurt, did it?"

"No, it was just sudden."

"I'm gonna make you feel so good," said Harry. He jerked Louis off for a bit, flexing his fingers inside Louis. 

Louis lay and let the sensations wash over him. Harry's fingers inside him were very clever; he'd obviously done it to himself before. They found his spot and massaged it tenderly. God, it felt so good. Louis felt pulses of heat burst through him. Then Harry opened his mouth and began licking around the head of his dick again. Louis whimpered. "Oh yeah, just like that." 

"Want me to suck you again?"

"Yes, please."

"So polite," teased Harry. "My mum will definitely like you."

"Please don't joke around," said Louis. "Take me down." Harry did so, sucking and moving his tongue, and Louis' head thrashed on the pillow. "Oh yeah, babe. That's so good."

"Shh," said Harry, pulling off. 

Louis didn't care, he was becoming too overwhelmed. "Forget about your sister. Suck me, harder."

Harry obliged. The wet heat of his mouth encompassed Louis' dick. Louis tried not to buck up. Harry couldn't hold him down; both his hands were occupied. He had to restrain himself. Okay, so he bucked up. Just a little bit. Harry hummed, vibrating around his dick. He took it. He looked so hot, his lips around Louis, his hair falling in his face. He didn't even have to stretch his mouth, it was so big. He took Louis comfortably. 

Louis felt the pulses of heat running through him become blurred, become one big expanse of heat. His whole awareness was focussed on his groin area, on the sensations inside him as Harry fucked him with his fingers; he had three inside Louis now. Louis could feel the delicious stretch of his rim, the bulk of Harry as he filled him up, the shooting sensations as he touched his spot again and again. He was so close.

"Harry," he breathed, "I'm close." 

Harry pulled off momentarily. "Gonna try to swallow you down," he said.

"You stud," said Louis, ridiculously.

"Yeah," said Harry, and returned to sucking on his length. Louis had had a blowjob before, but this was something else. Harry seemed to know just what to do to make him writhe, to make him open up his legs to get more of Harry's fingers inside him, to make his toes flex. 

"Faster," said Louis, feeling desperate.

Harry obligingly tongued faster, moved his mouth up and down faster, wanked Louis hard with his other hand. It was building, it was building. Suddenly, he was in that pre-orgasmic phase where he was strung out on the edge, feeling the ultimate pleasure. He wanted it to last, and wanted to cum at the same time, desperately. His body's physical needs won out. With a last rise in sensation, he began to cum. He shouted; he heard himself, but couldn't bring himself to care. He could hear himself saying, "Harry, Harry, Harry," and feel Harry sucking him for all he was worth, probing inside him with dilligent fingers. He opened his eyes as the last bursts of orgasm faded, to see his dick still in Harry's mouth, a trail of cum seeping out at the side of his lips. That was so sexy. He felt himself pulse a couple more times, watched as Harry's throat tried to work it down. He let Harry suck on him and fuck him until he was oversensitised. 

"Harry, that's enough." 

Harry whined, but left off his dick. He left his fingers buried in Louis. "I love your dick." 

"You've got cum running down your chin. Let me wipe it off." 

Harry surged up, leaving his fingers inside Louis. "Lick it off."

Louis pulled a face, but licked his cum off Harry's face. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever tasted. 

"Yeah, that's so hot," said Harry, and his lips latched onto Louis. His tongue pushed into Louis' mouth and Louis could taste himself, along with the taste of Harry himself. The two flavours together were heady. The passionate kiss eased up into pecks, as Louis came down from his high. 

"Harry, you were wonderful." he said. 

"I pride myself on satisfying my partners," said Harry.

Louis slapped his rump. Harry gasped. "Partners? There's only one partner for you from now on." 

"I meant, in the past," clarified Harry. "Now I want to satisfy just you." 

"You'd better. Are you going to leave your fingers up my bum forever?"

"I wish I could," said Harry, moving down a little, and gently pulling his fingers out. Louis felt the loss. Harry's fingers were so fantastic.

Harry had popped up to grab some tissues. "Let's clean up," he said, pulling out a handful and wiping his hand and on his body where he'd cum.

Louis took some of his own, and attempted to wipe up the spots where Harry had shot over him earlier. Harry reached out his hand, and Louis deposited the tissues into it. Harry threw the tissues in the bin and put the box back. Then he snuggled back down against Louis.

"You're good," said Harry, putting his arm around Louis, pressing himself in close.

"You're better," said Louis, embracing him.

"We're both as good as each other," Harry decided. 

"You're the hottest boy I've ever met." 

"Same. I always looked towards older guys, you know? They seemed so much more mature than my own year. I had a crush on this Sixth Former but it went nowhere. He didn't even know who I was. Now I have a crush on you."

"I'm crushing on you too, pretty hard," said Louis.

"I should say, I like you better than the Sixth Former. You're what I imagined from a relationship. Someone to talk to, someone to laugh with, someone to have hot sex with."

"Sleepovers at yours on the weekend?" guessed Louis.

"You bet. You can come up here Saturday, stay Saturday night, then go home late Sunday." 

"My exams, mate. A levels. When am I going to study for them?"

"Bring your books up. You can study here." 

"How am I going to get study done when you're distracting me?"

"I work in the local bakery on Saturdays. You can do your study then." 

"So let me get this straight," said Louis. "I come up here on Saturday, you're working in the bakery, but your mum's going to let me in anyway to study."

"She won't mind," said Harry.

"I think you're being a little unrealistic." 

"So come over late Saturday, then. After you've done your studies, after I finish work at the bakery. I finish at four."

"I could be up here by five," said Louis. "No earlier; I really do have to study."

"That's fine by me. Gives me time to have a shower, so I'll be all fresh for you."

"You don't have to, if you normally shower in the morning. You smell delicious right now." Louis sniffed at his armpit, to show him how serious he was. Harry still smelt wonderful.

"I want to be fresh for you," repeated Harry. "You'll come up next Saturday?"

"If you're totally sure, and once we discuss it with your mother."

Harry popped up. "I'll get dressed and ask her."

"Now?" whined Louis, wanting to snuggle a little longer.

"Now," said Harry. "Come on, you still have to teach me stuff on the guitar."

"I'm not that much better than you."

"You know diminished chords. I don't," said Harry. "I don't even know how to do an F chord. Haydn's only taught me the ones we use in songs. We haven't used an F chord yet."

"My best advice to you is just to buy a chord book, which will show you all of them." 

"But teach me some. After breakfast."

Harry was definitely getting dressed. Louis sighed, and followed him up. He changed into his clothes of the day before.

"Do you want fresh ones?" Harry asked him, but Louis declined. He hadn't had a shower, after all.

It was nearing eight thirty by the time they made their way down to the kitchen. Harry sniffed. "Scrambled eggs and bacon," he said.

"Oh, Harry," said his mum, as they entered. "I was just about to call you down. Breakfast is ready." 

"Smells good, mum. Will there be enough for Louis?"

"Of course there'll be enough for Louis." She smiled at him. 

Louis smiled back and said, "Thanks, ma'am." 

"Here, I'll dish you up." She grabbed two plates and put eggs and bacon on each. "Don't forget to collect a knife and fork." 

"Come out with me to the meals area," instructed Harry, collecting a knife and fork from the drawer. Louis copied him, then followed him. The meals area was ajacent to the kitchen, so they didn't have far to go. Louis noticed Gemma sitting at the table, just starting her breakfast.

"Sleepyhead," she teased Harry.

Harry looked a little embarrassed. "What time did you get up?"

"Oh, a little after eight."

"You didn't... hear anything?"

"What would I have heard? Wait, Louis is not your boyfriend, is he?" she said, looking interested.

"Well... he might be," muttered Harry. 

"Well, my love, I didn't hear anything. Thank god." 

"He might be staying over every weekend."

"Well, just keep it down, that's all I ask."

"Your sister knows, too?" said Louis.

"Everyone in my family knows," said Harry.

"You said just your mum!"

"I told them all, eventually."

"Chill out, Louis," said Gemma. "We're all cool here. There's no need to be afraid."

"Do you think your mum will accept it so easily?" asked Louis. "Me coming over here every weekend?"

"She'll be fine. She likes you already, I can tell." 

"But Harry's only sixteen."

"He's the most self-possessed sixteen year old I've ever met," said Gemma. "Seriously. He's really mature for his age."

"I told you," Harry told Louis.

Just then Harry's and Gemma's mum came out of the kitchen, her own plate in hand. "You're father's coming," she said. "How are we all, this bright morning?"

Louis let the siblings answer. Just afterwards, Harry's stepdad came out, his plate full of eggs and bacon. 

"A toast to Harry and Louis, for getting third place," he said, raising a bit of bacon on his fork.

"Toast, dad," said Harry, and the other members of the family raised similar toasts. Louis held up a bit of egg on his fork to join in. They were quickly eating again, which Louis was grateful for. He didn't want to get between family.

They all soon finished, and brought their plates out to the kitchen, where Harry's mum started up a sink-full of dishes.

"I'll dry," volunteered Louis.

"No, you've got things to teach Harry. Go on. You've got an hour or so," said Harry's mum.

Louis and Harry left Gemma and his stepdad to dry the dishes, and went back upstairs. "Teach me an F chord," said Harry.

"It's simple. It's an E chord, moved along one."

"Show me." 

Louis used Haydn's guitar to show Harry. "See? Just lay your index finger flat, and do a normal E chord."

Harry tried a few times. He got it. 

"Now try transitioning from, say, an A chord to an F chord. Try to get the rythmn."

Harry tried. After a few attempts, he began to do it. "Yeah," said Harry. 

"Okay. Now, you're aware that with your F chord, with your index finger, you're creating a base for the next chords up the scale?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

Louis took the guitar from him and demonstrated. "The F chord is an F because my index finger is on the F. If you want F#, it's the next up. If you want G, it's on the third fret. See what I mean?"

"Oh, yeah," said Harry. "Does this mean I can play out all the notes on the top with any scale?"

"That's exactly what it means, although only a few chords need to be done on the bar. Well, I mean, there's other ways of doing them too, but this is the simplest way." 

"I know how to do all the major chords, except for F, F#, B and C#, oh, and B minor and maybe a couple of others." said Harry. "Let me practice."

Harry took the guitar back and began to transition through the chords he knew from A to G. He sucessfully hit F. "Wow," he said.

"It's easy enough to learn chords up the fret. They're based on E, E minor, A, A minor. With a D, or C, if you're flexible. Or a G. But we'll stick with E, E minor, A, and A minor."

Louis showed Harry. Harry got the notion quickly. He knew the notes on the lower E string, which was a positive. It didn't take him long to learn the chord placings. 

"You're quick," said Louis. Harry smiled at him. With his curly hair, he looked like an overgrown cherub. Louis couldn't help but smile back. Harry began giggling. Louis found it addictive, and began giggling, too. He was having so much fun, teaching Harry the guitar. "Do you have a guitar of your own?" he asked, when his giggles were under control.

Harry sobered, too. "No. But I'm going to buy one. I want to write songs, the actual music parts, not just the lyrics."

"That's why I learnt guitar," said Louis. "To write songs. I don't practice because I don't care to be a guitar player; these days I only play when I write."

"How many songs do you have?"

"We have a lot, but there's a lot we've stopped playing for one reason or another. We've got a core of songs enough to last us a set."

"Do you play live?"

"We've just started to," said Louis. "Had our first pub gig a couple of months back. Oh sure, we used to play at friends' parties, school, stuff like that, before. But they weren't real gigs, the way the pub gig was. We actually got paid. Not much, but still, actual payment."

"You're all over eighteen now?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. We've got a gig coming up in a couple of weeks, a support act for the support act for the main group, but again, we get paid, so who's complaining?"

"I want to be a singer, really want to be a singer," said Harry. "I'm not just saying it. I want to do what you do, play pubs instead of friends' parties and weddings and stuff."

"You played at weddings?"

"Back when we were a cover band. Which, okay, wasn't so long ago, but we're concentrating on orginals now."

"You've got the talent," said Louis. "Just need to put in the hours at the guitar. Don't worry, we'll have you writing songs in no time."

"How do you write songs?"

"I'll show you my method next week. Well, it's not so much of a method as it is strumming some chords and humming along, until something clicks."

"Next week," said Harry. "I have to ask my mum."

"Go ask her," said Louis.

"It's nearly ten. Your parents will be here soon."

"So, hurry up."

Harry put down the guitar and hurried out of the bedroom. Louis picked up the guitar and strummed a bit. Haydn had a nice guitar; much nicer than Louis' cheapest-on-sale classical guitar.

Harry ran back into the room, panting. "She said yes!"

"All right!" They slapped palms.

Just then, Harry's mum called up the stairs, "Louis, I think your family is here!"

"Damn," said Louis. He got up and faced Harry. "Well, I guess this is goodbye."

"Until next weekend," said Harry. He came closer, and stopped in front of Louis. "Well..." he said, and then pressed forward for a kiss. Louis wrapped his arms around him and responded. Their kisses were chaste, but full of promises. Next time...

"Louis! Harry! Louis' family is here!"

They broke off, took the last opportunity to look over each other one more time, then Harry shouted, "Coming!" and Louis grabbed his shoes and slipped them on. They raced down the stairs, Harry in front. They made it to the parlour; but the Tomlinsons weren't standing at the door or in the hall. No, they were sitting in the front room with Harry's parents, chatting away.

"Oh, here they are," said Harry's mum. "I want to introduce you to my son, Harry. Harry, this is Mr and Mrs Tomlinson, and Charlotte and Felicite."

"Hello!" said Harry. He went and shook their hands. "Very pleased to meet you."

The Tomlinsons murmured the same sentiments back as Harry shook each of their hands. 

"Sit down, Louis," offered Harry's mum, pointing to the settee on the side, where Fizzy was sitting. It was a three-seater, so Harry sat down beside him after he'd done his greetings. Harry had a smile on his face. He obviously liked meeting people. 

They chatted some more about the Battle of the Bands; especially how White Eskimo and The Rogue should have taken out joint first prize instead of third. 

"You're so biased, mum," said Harry.

"It's true. I think they just didn't want to give away double the first prize, or double the second for that matter, so they made do with doubling third prize, which was cheaper for them."

"I agree," said Louis' mum. "You two were clearly the stand-out bands."

"At least my Harry won best vocalist. I think they should have given the guitarist's prize to Louis' lead guitarist. He was very good."

They chatted some more, before Louis' family stood up. They never liked to outstay their welcome. "So it's okay for your Louis to come up next weekend?" said Harry's mum. This was obviously something they'd discussed before they'd made it down.

"Of course. I can see he'll be in good hands," smiled Louis' mum.

"We'll treat him as one of our own," said Harry's mum.

"That means she'll lock him in a cupboard with no food or water," Harry piped up.

"Oh, you," said his mother, slapping him lightly across the upper arm. 

Harry grinned. "Seriously," he told the Tomlinsons, "he'll be really welcome here. My mum's a great cook."

"Where will he sleep?"

"Harry put one of our air mattresses on the floor of his room. I trust it was comfortable enough?" said Harry's mum.

Louis said, "I slept like the dead, except for when Harry decided to-" and Harry shoved him, a look of shocked laughter on his face. Louis winked at him, and Harry dissolved into giggles.

"When Harry what, darling?" said Louis' mum.

"I'll tell you all about it when we get home," promised Louis. He had decided he was going to come out to them today. Harry looked concernedly at him, but Louis nodded his head to show that everything was all right.

"It was lovely meeting you," said Harry's mum to Louis' mum, and she returned the sentiment. The men, for their part, shook hands and nodded at each other. 

Harry came out to see them off. Just before Louis stepped into the car, he came forward and boldly hugged Louis. Louis hugged him back. In an hour and a half the truth would be known by his family; no point in being coy now. 

"I miss you already," murmured Harry into his ear.

"I know how you feel." Louis pulled back, then, and Harry reluctantly let him go. "Don't forget, if you buy a guitar, buy a chord book, too. And get some sheet music to learn songs from."

"I will," said Harry. He looked bereft as Louis got into the car and looked at him out of the open window. 

Dad started the car up. Louis continued to look at Harry. He waved. 

"Next weekend!" shouted Harry, and Louis smiled and waved some more.

Then they were off. Louis turned around to look out the rear of the vehicle. Harry was standing on the verge, waving wildly. Even though he probably couldn't see through the tinted windows, Louis waved back. Then they turned a corner, and Harry was gone from view.

Louis sat back facing the front. His mum said, "They were a nice family."

"Yes," his dad agreed.

"So I'm okay to go over there on the weekend?"

"If you really want to travel all the way into Manchester, by all means," said his mum. "You're eighteen, you're reasonably responsible; just make sure that you get your study done, and I'm happy."

"I've got all day Saturday to study. I won't be leaving home until around four," said Louis.

Lottie interrupted. "What are you going to get up to all that time?"

"Music," said Louis vaguely. 

"You're not very good at guitar," she said.

"No, but I'm better than he is. I know the theory, Geoff's crammed it down my throat often enough, natural scales and harmonic scales and melodic scales, dorian, lydian, myxolydian scales; I know the theory."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That proves my point." He leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. In a little under an hour and a half, they'd be home. In a little under an hour and a half, he was going to call them to the sofas and ask them to sit down. In a little under an hour and a half, he was going to come out as bisexual to his family. Butterflies rose in his stomach, no matter how much he tried to quash them. This was his family, he told himself. They'd be supportive. He had no reason to think they wouldn't be. His mum had even spoken positively of homosexuals in the past. No, he had no reason to be negative.

He thought of Harry. How was it that he'd known him for only one night? It felt like the boy had been in his life for much longer than that. Already he was falling, falling hard for the cherub-faced boy. His personality, his wit, conversation that was so easy; not to mention his sexy body, his gorgeous full lips, his curly hair. He might just be heaven and hell rolled into one package. Louis didn't believe in god, but didn't care if he went straight to hell over Harry. He was worth it. 

So the journey continued, and Louis closed his eyes, leaned against the window, and continued to think of Harry in order to calm his nerves. Only one thing mattered; that he was going to see Harry next weekend. He focussed on that, and let his nerves dissipate. Everything would turn out all right, he just knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you liked!


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